The Lists
by shirleypositive72
Summary: Just write a list, Alice says, to know what to look for in your ideal man. But I have two lists... AH, OOC
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first ever story for public consumption. Please be honest but gentle. I've had a certain scene in my head for a very long time (I'll let you know when we get there). It just won't go away. Thought I'd give it the life it's begging for. I don't know how long it will be yet. I think I'll just keep telling their story until they tell me I'm done. Please be honest but gentle.

I am a Jasper girl. Books and movies. Met Jackson Rathbone once, ran my fingers through his hair. I love him, in a non-stalkerish sort of way.

Please let me know if I should continue. Do you want to see the lists?

BELLA POV

"A list, Alice? Really? Isn't that a little 1950's pajama party?"

"Why can you never just DO what I ASK, Bella? It will be FUN!" That's Alice, I think. The only person I know who speaks in capital letters. I half expect to see emoticons floating from her mouth into the air. They would surely take over the world, enveloping it in a cheekily obnoxious yellow swarm. It would be easy, since we'd all just stand around smirking, vaguely annoyed and slightly amused.

"You're right, Ali, it will be fun. Writing out a list of all the qualities I require in the man of my dreams- who, by the way, does not exist in available form- knowing full well I will have only certain disappointment to look forward to, will be the most fun we've ever had together. Even more fun than the time we got lost in that neighborhood at the beach and couldn't find our way out while "Twilight Zone" played on the radio. Even more fun than the time that guy propositioned us to have sex with his girlfriend while he watched. Even more fun than the time we got fucked up on Canadian Mist and I puked in your bathtub. So fun."

"He does exist. Somewhere. Maybe. Don't lose hope. You're only seventeen. But as organized and efficient as you are, wouldn't it be nice to have a list? Just to know what to look out for? You know you'll eventually make a list ANYway. You make a housecleaning list, for God's sake. Every week, Bella. Every damn week. It's BIZARRE."

"You made your own list already, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And now you want me to do one so you feel a little less crazy."

"Yep."

"Fine." Sighing heavily, I took some of my very best cream stationary, the kind edged in scalloped lines of black from the drawer of my bedside table, to show her I was pretending to take this shit seriously. It's for serious lists only. The cleaning lists get the pale blue with a watermarked bubble effect. Looks like soap. Ali understands the significance of the serious paper and smiles in appreciation.

"I brought mine so you can get the idea," says Ali, nearly bouncing off the bed in excitement.

"Oh, God," I groaned, taking the pink paper from her. Pink. Of course.

"Mikey fits EVERYTHING on it."

"Yeah, that would happen if you make the list after you meet the guy."

"Bitch." She giggled to take the edge off the word.

"I'm just sayin', Ali, "I smirked. Wait, am I sending out volunteers for the emoticon army? Gotta watch that shit.

"For your information, I wrote the list to be sure Mikey is really who I want. It just made it more obvious why I love him. I love him SO much. He's perfect. So handsome, funny, athletic, thoughtful, romantic. He does this THING with his tongue…"

"Ali! No. Stop. You promised never to speak of any of that again." I just couldn't hear any more about Alice Cullen's sex life with Michael Newton. Ever. The last time she shared, she told me about the curve of his dick and how it hit just the right spot in her vajayjay. I believe I am scarred for life. And a little worried about his dick.

"So, do I list the things I want now, the things I think I'll want later? Do I write what will be good for me, or the things I find exciting?"

"Bella, YOU are the fucking list expert. Figure it out! You're over thinking this," she said, exasperated.

"Hmm, I need two lists, I think. One for the man I truly hope to find. One who's good and good for me. The one who will give me an amazing life."

"That list will be labeled 'Edward,' right?" she squealed as I threw my giraffe pillow pet at her.

"Shut up. Your brother doesn't need a list to tell me he's almost perfect."

"Ew."

"Ali.."

"It's ok. I've made peace with the fact that you would jump his bones given an invitation. Again, be patient, Bella. I think he and Jessica are breaking up. Again. Just wait."

"Tired of waiting," I mumble. I know he thinks I'm cute. I catch him looking. We talk easily, hang out in the same circle, more or less. We'd work. There are some issues: the drinking, the arrogance, the controlling edge he sometimes walks. He's a hot, popular teenager; all those things are common in the guys I know. He's also brilliant, generous, friendly to everyone, focused. He might not be the man of my dreams, but he is the one I'm dreaming about. He just has to get rid of his bitch of a girlfriend before I greenlight this thing. But she goes down on him - often; it could be a very long wait.

"And the other list?" she prompted.

"The bad boy. The one every good girl wants, even if she won't admit it." I was getting into this now. Yum, bad boys. "The one we'd all fuck then lie about."

"I want one now, too. See what you did?"

"You can't. You have Mikey and his curvy dick. No cheating."

"Just write the fucking lists. You're taking all the spontaneous, silly fun out of this. And by the way, all those things we did WERE fun - except the puke. You didn't even remember doing it, and _I _had to clean it up. I'm gonna finish this stupid character analysis of Chillingsworth from _Scarlet Letter then I want to read those lists, missy. Why she won't just let me do an oral report…"_

As Ali wandered from the room, trailing complaints about writing a paper when her thoughts were too fast to capture with a pen, I got to work on the lists. I told myself I was doing it to please my best friend, but I found myself curious as to what I would write. Picking up my giraffe and lying across it on my stomach with my feet in the air, I began to put words to paper…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for the encouraging reviews. I can't believe some of you have put me on your alert lists! I am truly appreciative for you feedback. Sorry for any strange notifications for this chapter. I had publishing issues. All better now!

THE GOOD MAN 

1. Adventurous

2. Athletic

3. Beach Lover

4. Compassionate

5. Confident

6. Courteous

7. Funny

8. Goal Oriented

9. Handsome

10. Respected

11. Romantic

12. Smart

13. Trustworthy

14. Wealthy

15. Well Liked

THE BAD BOY

1. Complicated

2. Damaged

3. Dangerous

4. Fearless

5. Hot

6. Intimidating

7. Leather Wearing

8. Loyal

9. Mischievous

10. Moody

11. Musician

12. Mysterious

13. Pierced

14. Sexually Accomplished

15. Tattoo Having

BELLA POV

"You alphabetized them." Alice is so cute. She said this like she's surprised. With a suprisey face. Sweet.

"Yeah, it was too hard to put them in order of importance. I kept changing my mind." This receives a pert little grimace and shake of the head. She really is my best friend; she accepts the crazy. Of course, she is a seventeen year old girl sitting on a purple bean bag chair in the corner of my room on a Thursday night wearing a Scooby Doo tank top that says "Ruh Roh" across her boobs, pink and white striped leggings, and a green, threadbare, knit hat with ear flaps because her "ears get cold at night," and I still take _her_ seriously. I guess we both do crazy well. It's probably why we have been closer than sisters since kindergarten. We both wore ponytails in our hair the first day of school, got mad, beat each other stupid with our lunchboxes, then shared our Snack Packs. Instant bond.

"You really should have titled the good one 'Edward.' It totally fits how you see him. It fits how he sees himself, too," she said with a strangely sad smile.

"Ali, he's not that bad. You see him through a sister's eyes. It would be disturbing if you looked at him like I do. Seriously."

"Maybe. I just…"

"Bella! Your dog is on the roof again!" my dad shouts from downstairs, interrupting Alice.

"Your dad says the craziest shit. Is she really on the roof?"

"Believe it or not, yes. She's found this trapeze-act of a climbing route from my truck, to the porch roof, up to the top of the house. It's like she's on sentry duty, " I say, almost not believing it myself. " Come on, I've got to get her down. She just stares at everyone else when they try."

We head downstairs, through the kitchen, out the back door - Alice in her uniform of insanity, me in a white souvenir t-shirt from Amish Country and a pair of gray sweats. It has to be a toss up as to what the neighbors find more unsettling: Ali or the Irish Setter on the roof.

"Fiona, come here! Stop laughing, Alice. She could fall. Fiona! Come here, girl. Ali! Stop rolling in the grass. It's not that funny. Fiona! Damn it, I can't whistle for her when you're screeching like that, Mary Alice Cullen! Fi! Come down here and bite Alice! Fuck it." I give in then and laugh with Ali in the damp yard until I feel Fiona lick my cheek. Dad chooses this time to come outside to check on us.

"Bells, the neighbors are staring. You should wave, be polite. Please try to keep the giant red dog off the roof, Honey. She's starting to tear it up. Alice, you look nice this evening. You girls come in when you get cold. G'night."

"G'night, Dad."

"Thank you, Charlie. Good night," says Ali, a little bit of hero worship in her eyes. Turning to me, she giggles, "He really does say the craziest shit."

Half an hour later, after we have recovered enough from the Charlie-induced hysterics to move, we find ourselves upstairs in my bed again, Fiona at our feet. "So, the bad boy…," Alice begins. Even a dog on the fucking roof cannot save me from the lists. "Do you have someone in mind for that one, too?"

"You live here, right? Forks? Can there possibly be anyone here who even remotely lives up to that list? Do you know of anybody that comes close? If you do, point me to him, because somehow, I missed him."

"Ok, Ok , chill. Just asking," she says as she and her hat snuggle further into the comforter.

"Didn't you ever just want to cut loose? Not silly-weird like you, Crayola. Not nerdy-weird like me. But really, just, I-don't-give-a-fuck-what-they-think loose? I want to ride on the back of a badass motorcycle, holding onto a badass hottie. I want to roll up someplace with him and have him scare the shit out of everyone there. I want to sit in a room and listen to his sexy voice while he plays bluesy guitar. I want to be the delusional girl who thinks she can "fix him" because he's broken and hard, but has little boy eyes. I want to peel away the layers until I find the gooey center, and then I want him to make my center all gooey. I want James Dean. I want sex on wheels. It's a fantasy."

"Wow. Just, damn, Bella. Now I REALLY want one, too"

"Why the lists, Ali? You really wanted me to do this."

Sighing as she peaks her nose out, she says, "Because I love you, and you're lonely. I found my Mikey, Edward is too stupid from all the head he's getting to wake the FUCK UP and declare his love for you, Angie and Ben are so sweet together I want to VOMIT, and you're lonely. I hate that. I want to fix that. I needed a shopping list. Now I have two." The grin that comes with that statement like fries with a burger scares the shit out of me.

"No. No, no. No man shopping. I'm not lonely. Alone does NOT mean lonely." Good Lord, now she's got _me _stuck on caps lock.

"But, Bella, it's almost your birthday. I have to get you SOMETHING," she giggled. "Besides, you can't wait around forever to play with someone else's toy. What if Edward continues to act like he's brain damaged and stays with Jess?"

"Then I move on. I've had boyfriends, you know."

"Three months with Riley Biers after his braces came off and before he moved to Port Angeles, and a couple of drunken screws with Paul from the rez, do not indicate moving on, Bella. They indicate biding your time. Tell me I'm wrong," she almost begged. I can't answer her, because I never lie to Alice. Never. "I know I told you to wait, that he's breaking up with her again. I believe that he will, you know. But I said that because that's what you want. You want him. I get it, kind of. But, God, babe, look around while you wait! Maybe you'll find someone else. Don't be lonely. It breaks my heart." She had tears in hers eyes. Oh, how I hate when she tears up. It's so incongruous with the ratty green ear flaps.

'Ok, Ali. Find the bad boy, and I'll give him a shot. But the minute Jessica comes up for air and he walks away from her, I'm on your brother like spandex on an '80's metal band."

"Fair enough," my bestie breathes sleepily. We pull the comfy purple comforter up around us tightly and spoon like only the best of friends can. We fall asleep to visions of guitar- playing bad boys and the sounds of a snoring, roof-scaling giant red dog.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you. That's all I can say. I hope you continue to enjoy my blathering!

BELLA POV

I wake up to loud whining fifteen minutes before the alarm. I assume it's Fiona, but check Ali just to be sure. You never know. Looking into her non-whiney, relaxed face, I can't help but think she looks so innocent. That misconception will be dispelled the moment she wakes and speaks, of course, but she's a sweetheart right now. Since I'm pretty sure the whining can only be my dog, I turn off the alarm before it can scream at me and get up to let her out. My ten year old devoted companion sits by the door, directing her sweet red face my way with desperate anticipation.

"Wanna go out, Fi? Sh, sh, sh, don't wake Al, it's too early for her. Five quiet minutes, m'kay? Scoot." Heading down the stairs with my favorite furry creature, I hear two voices that guarantee there will be no quiet this morning.

"If you wanted eggs, you should have said so."

"I did! I said to save some for me, I went to pee, I came back, and they were all gone! How did you eat a whole dozen that fast?"

"I was hungry," my brother Jake tells our baby brother Seth. Good God, a dozen? That can't be healthy.

"I'm hungry, too, you butthead. I'll just have cereal, then." Yay. More whining and it's not even 6:30 yet.

"I ate that last night," laughs Jake.

"What?" Seth is getting shrill at this point. Fourteen year old boys should not be able to make the sound that just came out of his mouth.

"Seth, stop that noise. You're scaring Fiona," I say as I let her out the back door. "I'll make pancakes. Other people will need to eat, too. That's if Jake didn't eat the mix straight from the box."

"Hadn't thought of it, yet. It'd be kinda dry. You can go ahead and make us some pancakes, Bells."

"Bella, why the glaring at Jake so early?' asks our Mom, rounding the corner into the kitchen. Already perfectly put together, hair in a ponytail, natural make up, khakis - just like a normal mom. So cunning in her deceit. We all know she's younger than we are somehow. Must be the free spirit. And the kind soul.

"He ate everything that wasn't running, left poor Seth to starve, and now expects me to cater a delicious breakfast. He's being sixteen. Make him stop, please," I say as I watch her kiss them both on top of their shiny, black- haired heads. When the fire on the Quileute Reservation took both of the boys' families twelve years ago, it devastated my parents and me, too. Billy Black and Harry Clearwater were my dad's best friends. I played with their daughters. Though Jake's mom had died years before, my mother was very close to Seth's mother, Sue Clearwater. Those two little boys left behind were family already. The best thing Renee and Charlie Swan ever did, besides marry each other, was to adopt my brothers. They both have too much goodness and love in them to share it all with just one child. About my parents, I could never be jealous. Besides, I love my two Quileute boys. Don't tell them I said that, though.

"You know there's only one cure for sixteen, Isabella. Seventeen. Let him survive until his birthday, please," she pleads as she places a kiss on the top of my head, too. We're all laughing when Dad enters the room. As goofy as he is, it's almost hard to believe he's Chief of Police. Then you see the uniform and the gun.

"Pancakes? Did Jake eat all the eggs again?" Charlie asks, rolling his eyes, taking in the mess that Jake left in the sink. "I think he does it just to get Bella to make the pancakes."

As we sit around the table eating delicious pancakes - Jake let us all have some after Charlie gave him a stern look - we hear a disturbing thump making its way through the upstairs hall.

"Alice stayed over?" asks Seth. "Did she wear the hat?"

"Don't call her Twink, Seth," I groan.

"Good morning, Twink!" he shouts.

"I said not to call her that."

"She loves it."

"I hate it," she mumbles as she stumbles into the kitchen in all her rumpled, bleary-eyed glory.

"If you didn't wear an elf hat, I wouldn't need to give you an elf name," smiles Seth, enjoying their game. It has been going on since the day she bought the hat five years ago. I think he's winning.

"Ineedpancakesnow," mumbled Ali, plopping herself in a chair. Seth piles her plate high, telling her Santa needs strong elves.

"What are the plans, young ones?" asks Dad.

"I've got swim practice," says Seth.

"Football, then Jared's. Bonfire at First Beach this weekend," Jake chokes out past the pancake in his cheek, syrup on his chin, and… is that leftover egg in his teeth?

"Ali and I have a half day. We thought we might go into Port Angeles, shopping." Alice snorts through her orange juice.

"Yeah, shopping. Bella gave me two lists of things she needs." I widen my eyes as she turns to me and smirks. I fucking hate it when she smirks. It always means very bad things for me.

"And then?" Mom asks knowingly. "Shopping isn't the only goal, now, is it?"

"Um, concert at the college?" I tell her, asking permission at the same time.

"Staying at the Cullens' afterward? Driving your truck to Port Angeles?" asks Dad, ever the logistical mastermind.

"Yeah, Charlie. My parents have already invited her. Edward and Jess are going, and Emmett's going to be there. He's home for the weekend, and he's gonna drive us all in the Jeep," Ali says, providing all the necessary details. Glad she knew them. She had me so wrapped up in Good Man/Bad Boy lists, I forgot to make one for today. Must fix that.

"Ok, all plans approved. Go get ready for school. Jake clean the kitchen first." Dad laid down the law, Jake grumbled and obeyed. Nice, no dishes for me.

Ali and I head back upstairs. While she takes over my bathroom, I make use of the one in the hall to shower. Now I can fix the list issue.

FRIDAY

1. School, half day

2. Character analysis (Hester Prynne) due

3. Alice's to drop off truck

4. Change for concert

5. Leave with group at 6pm (try not to spit at Jessica)

6. Shopping and dinner at Angeles Mall

7. Local music at Campus Club at 9pm

Feeling so much better, I get dressed. Levi's 501's, Forks High Senior Class t-shirt, and flip flops for me. It's early September; the warm weather won't last much longer, so I'm gonna wear them while I can. Brush my too-long hair, add black eyeliner and cherry lip gloss, and I'm done. Twink the Elf enters the bathroom and 45 minutes later, Alice Fucking Cullen emerges. It's incredible. Black, expertly spiked hair, perfect red lips, bright blue eyes surrounded by smoky shadow and thick black lashes. She truly is beautiful. And the clothes. Only she could wear this and make it look elegant. The rest of us would just look comfortably slackerish. Cut off jean shorts, black capri-length tights, black Chucks, bright pink t-shirt, and a black and white striped hoodie with her thumbs poking through holes in the sleeves. Pacific Northwest slacker chic. Perfect. Mikey will drool himself into dehydration.

I let Fiona back in, kiss my parents, and stick my tongue out at the boys. Charlie tells Ali she should be on runway, then we're out the door. Bring on Friday. We're ready.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The number of readers who have added my little story to alerts and favorites is staggering! I'm amazed. Leave me a line or two in review. Sorry the update has taken awhile. RL got vicious: two trips and a funeral. I've forgotten to say it so far, but, just so you know, I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT. Bummer. The situations are mine.

BELLA POV

We are so not ready. At least, I'm not, even with the list I made before we left. Usually the chalkboard note paper puts me in the mood, but it isn't working today. I just know the half day of school will feel like an eternity. Friday half days always do. Plus that hateful paper; I'm just not feeling _The_ _Scarlett Letter. _And then, of course, I have to play nice with Jessica all evening. I don't want to. I will have Emmett, though. He loves me and hates her. We always have fun.

We pull into the Forks High student parking lot to both barely tolerant and highly amused looks. My old, beat up, faded red Chevy is the stuff of legend here. No one can quite figure out how it can sound like it does and still achieve forward motion. I prefer not to question a true miracle, and I'm not sharing my secret with them. Mikey can't help but notice our arrival and begins what I can only imagine is, in his head, a slow motion, jump-into-my-arms-darling run towards my parking space. Ali is already fidgeting. Sigh. Save me from perky, punky, elf girls in love.

"Mikey! I missed you!" she screams as he pulls her from the passenger seat. She begins kissing his face like he's coming home from war. It's been 16 hours. When she jumps up and wraps her legs around his waist, it's time for me to try to get away.

"Bella, you ready for tonight?" Mikey asks, pulling his hands from Ali's ass to let her down. Escape foiled. "I hear one of the bands at Campus Club has an insane following. Must be good."

"I can't wait. We just have to make it through today. What time is Emmett getting in?" Ali and Edward's brother Emmett is at college in Port Angeles. It's not far, but he doesn't make it home very often. He used to be the best part of our group, and we all miss him. "I hope he can stay for the bonfire tomorrow night."

"He's supposed to be here by two. He told Mom he had a surprise. She's terrified, but she's willing to be shocked since he said he'd be here until Sunday afternoon. He's jazzed about going out to the rez. He hasn't seen Paul since the beginning of summer, " Ali informs me. I stay silent. My ex and Emmett are best friends. "Bye, Mikey," she says kissing him in a not-polite-for-company manner. "See you at noon." Patting him on the rear, she turns to join me on the joyless trek to homeroom.

Sixty-five hours and three classes later (ok, it was only three hours; it just felt like sixty-five), we finally make it to English. I am so very happy to turn in that damn paper. Usually I love English. Writing is normally my strong suit. Something about the central message of girl-wrong, man-right sets my teeth on edge, though, and _The Scarlett Letter _is one of the "classics" I just can't enjoy. Give me Jane Austen any day. At least she gives her heroines a giddy power.

My relief is short lived, however, when Jessica Stanley walks in. We used to be friends; not close but friends. Forks is a small town, and we'd grown up together. Slumber parties, weekends at the beach, Brownies, braces, and training bras. Then we finally noticed the boys notice us, and Jess liked it - a lot. And she wanted more than to just be noticed. She wanted to be wanted above all the rest of us girls. She worked her way through the best of the middle school boys - Mikey included - and picked up a grab bag of tricks along the way. She was the first among us to date, the first one kissed, the first one to explain the concept of sexual bases from experience. Remember that carrot scene from _Fast Times at Ridgemont High_? Yeah, Jess is Phoebe Cates.

That was all fine, as far as she and I were concerned, until Edward hit a growth spurt at the end of sophomore year. She knew I had "feelings" for him, since, like, forever. I think everyone did. But when he hit six feet and filled out his t-shirts just right, Jess wanted him, and at 15,she knew how to get him. By the second week of Junior year, she had him. And she made sure I knew it every minute of every day. That's when I went from being a little sad for her, to listing ways I could slip rancid food into her mouth in an effort to infect her tongue with a flesh eating virus. My favorite, by far, was exploiting her love for cold Ho-Hos by wrapping some spoiled sushi into the creamy layers of the chocolate roll. That would severely curtail her blow job abilities. Ali made me promise not to do it and threw away all my plans. I was angry as she tore up and pitched the red paper with black lines - it looked sufficiently evil, but she didn't appreciate the appropriateness of my design. She's such a bleeding heart.

"Bella! So excited you decided to come with us tonight!" Jess squealed in false enthusiasm. Bitch. "Edward is always so thoughtful to include everyone!" Did I mention Bitch? "Are you sure you won't feel left out, going alone? I heard you and Paul aren't together anymore," she said, getting in that one last dig.

"She'll be fine, Jess. She'll be the only one at the Club who'll know all of the music. It's always impressive," says Tyler Crowley, smiling as he walks up behind Jessica with his girlfriend, Lauren.

"Yes, SO impressive," smirks Lauren, fielding rival emoticon troops. Lauren is Jessica's right hand. Judging by the way she's glaring, Tyler has just fucked up by defending me. Poor guy was just trying to be nice.

"Thanks, Lauren! If you get confused by the songs and instruments, just ask; I'll be happy to explain. I don't think they'll be singing much Justin Beiber. And Jess, I think it's so great that you're concerned about me. I always tell Edward that you notice more than you let on. Paul's been gone a month, but I knew you'd get around to it. I can't wait to go shopping with you guys this afternoon. Will we be going anywhere besides Victoria's Secret?" See? I can be nice.

"What happened with Paul, anyway_?" _asked a melodious and familiar voice. "I thought that was going pretty well. Then a month ago, he disappears from the scene. Did you scare him?" Edward asked laughing. Jess adds her hyena shriek as he throws his arm over her shoulders and leads her to their desks.

He doesn't know how badly that comment hurts. It's a running joke that guys are intimidated by me. Edward says beauty and brains is hard to handle. But I didn't scare Paul; he scared me. How could he know, though? Edward is my friend, but there are some things I don't tell him. Some things Alice has promised not to tell. I really don't want to start something bad between Paul and Emmett, either. I'm not a prude or a virgin, but I'm not a slut. Paul just made me feel like one. I slept with him willingly; yep, I gave it up and kind of enjoyed it. But Paul has a nasty streak that I wasn't into. And his views on monogamy only ran one way - mine. He was jealous of every guy I spoke to, including Edward. Always suspected the worst. It was not hard to walk away, especially when I spotted Leah leaving his house one Saturday morning. Fuck that. I'm worth more.

Alice flashes a sympathetic smile my way as we, too, make our way the our seats. Nothing of interest is taking place within the lulling drone of our teacher extolling the virtues of the book we have just finished and analyzed, so Ali and I pass notes, planning our shopping spree later on. We don't usually go to Port Angeles in this big a group, so a day at the mall and dinner together will be a treat. Must have new outfits for a campus hang out, right? Even Jessica and I can agree on that.

The half day finally over, we head out to meet our friends to firm up all the plans. Angie and Ben are standing beside her little Honda, staring love struck into each other's eyes. So cute I want to puke. Lauren is walking toward them with Tyler trailing behind. He looks a little sad. And frightened. What did she do to him? Mikey has spotted Ali and is starting his slo-mo run again. But my eyes are glued to Edward and Jessica in his Volvo, making out in the front seat. If not for Emmett's promised company tonight, I might not go. It's getting harder and harder to watch this. It wasn't so bad when I had Paul, or Riley last year. But this is getting to be too much. They are all paired up, and I'm stuck watching Jessica show me again and again that he's hers. She doesn't even let us spend time together anymore, really. We hang out, but it's always like tonight, in a group. I miss just being his friend, hanging around acting dumb, really talking to each other. Even if I didn't feel all these extra emotions for him, we were still good friends. Jess doesn't like that; I think she sees our friendship as suspicious. So she controls our time together. But she can't control his home or his sister. I love staying over at the Cullens'. I get to be with both of my friends.

Before I reach the point at which I will have to pull Jessica out of the Volvo by her hair, Jake runs up to remind us all about the bonfire on First Beach the following night. It's important for Jake and Seth to keep their ties strong within the Quileute community. That's why Mom and Dad allow Jake to stay with his friend Jared and attend these bonfires every now and then. They say it keeps him connected. These nights can get a little wild, and Charlie and Renee know this; it's why Seth can't go yet. Jake wants to go because he can get drunk. He's sixteen. But to be honest, that's why we all go when we're invited. Tomorrow will be no exception.

"Be there around six if you want to be a part of the storytelling. The elders will be done around eight, then it's all ours!" he tells us excitedly. Oh, the sweet call of inebriation is loud with this one. "I'm headed out to La Push after practice. Mom's picking up Seth from swim practice, so you don't have to."

"Ok, Jake, thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Your truck running good?" Jake is the secret weapon, the true miracle. He's like the truck whisperer. He keeps my rust bucket running with oil, spit, and hope. A mechanical genius.

"Yes, it's fine. Thank you, Jake, stop worrying."

"You're my sister, I'm allowed. Have fun, be careful. Don't let anybody fuck with you tonight."

"I promise," I tell his retreating form. Protective little brother.

I turned to see Alice with a stormy face and am glad it's not directed at me. "Get the hell out of the car Edward! Let him up, Jess, God! Gross much?" Hehehe, how embarrassing for them.

"Fuck, Alice, what's your problem?" yells Jessica pouring herself from his car. Edward just unfolds himself elegantly, thumbing the whore spit from his lip. Damn, even that's hot. I'm sick and need help. He places his hand at the small of her back but doesn't defend her.

"People are waiting here, Jess. Keep your pants on until you don't have an audience. Are we all ready?" Ali says. I love her. Plans are set to meet at the Cullen house before we leave. Shopping and dinner at the mall, than live local music near campus. That small, magnificent girl can direct her people, I'll give her that.

We all say goodbye, then Ali and I jump into the truck after a sickening display of the sweet sorrow of parting between her and Mike. He can't resist running his fingers along the frayed edges of her cut off shorts, and I know from the self-satisfied look on her face that that was her plan all along. Devious mastermind.

My faithful truck chugs along to the Cullen home, where it is dwarfed by an enormous Jeep. Ali and I leap out of the truck and run, leaping and squealing, toward its enormous owner. Emmett scoops us both up in his arms, swinging us around. "Emmett!" we yell together, so happy to see the great teddy bear of a big brother.

"When did you get here? You're early!" Alice is simply beaming. We've all missed him so much.

"My last class was canceled, so we left a little sooner than planned. You both look beautiful, as always. I thought I told you to stop growing up. Damn! Seniors, boyfriends, going out to clubs, drinking…" Emmett shakes his head, as if bemused. The sly smile that dimples his face gives his humor away.

"We did all that before you left, Em. We did most of it with you!" I laugh. "Hey, who's 'we'?" No sooner than the question escapes my lips than the most stunning blonde I've ever seen comes gliding out the front door of the house behind Emmett. She is … breathtaking. I think I may hate her a little on sight. I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual, judging from the scowl that passes across her face when she catches sight of me. Uh, oh. She kinda looks like she can beat my ass.

"Rose! Come meet my sisters, baby!" Emmett booms, completely unaware that his girlfriend appears to be plotting some very uncomfortable things for my near future. I have always loved Em for calling me his sister. It's like he doesn't see a differences between Ali and me. He should really make that clear to Rose.

"Oh my God, Em, you brought home a GIRL! Is Mom home? Does she KNOW?" emotes the small sister. This is indeed a reason the be excited, though. Em has never, not even in high school, brought home a girl.

"Yes, Mom knows. I got home a little before they arrived, " says Esme Cullen. If Mary Alice is beautiful, Edward is handsome, and Emmett is impressive, Esme is flawless. Simply striking in her beauty, soft and delicate. She's more than that, of course. Kind like my mom, enthusiastic like Ali, Esme exudes this warmth that can't be described. Right now, however, she seems a little dazed. "Rose is Emmett's surprise."

"I am sorry about that, Mrs. Cullen. I told him he should give you some warning. Emmett thought it would be so funny to just spring me on all of you. I can stay somewhere else…," stutters Rose, obviously uncomfortable with Em's joke.

"Nonsense, Rose. You'll stay here. The guest room is always ready," says the ever polite Carlisle Cullen. Sweet Lord, one look at him and you totally understand the lust every female within a five mile radius feels for his sons. It's a hereditary trait. Damn. Daddy Cullen is perfection in a doctor's coat. Many a Forks PTA mom has shown up at Forks Memorial Hospital with real or imagined ailments hoping for a bedside visit by the good doctor. Can't say I blame them. Just, damn.

Thank, Dr. Cullen, Mrs. Cullen," smiles Rose. Maybe I don't hate her. She seems truly happy to be here and appreciative of their acceptance of the situation. No, not hate. Fear? Hell, yeah. Bitch is scary.

"Rose! Come meet Alice and Bella," calls Em again.

"Hi Rose! I'm Ali! So glad you're here!" exclaims Ali, grabbing her hands and holding them tightly, determined to make Rose our newest bestie. Good luck with that. Removing her hand from Ali's with an impossible grace, considering Ali wasn't actually willing to let her go, Rose turns to me with a smile-like expression.

"I'm Rose, Emmett's girlfriend." Way to put it out there, Rose.

"I'm Bella, Emmett's kind-of-adopted sister. I'm Ali and Edward's friend. Been around since kindergarten. A friend." Why the fuck am I rambling? Would the gorgeous blonde really hurt me in front of all these people? No. She can't feel threatened. Maybe? I don't really know her…

"Are you going with us tonight?" she asks.

"Yeah, big music fan. Staying over tonight here, too"

"Great." She does not sound like it's great. I am very damn certain I did not have "Piss off Emmett's new girlfriend" on my list this morning. Jess will love her.

We hang out, catching up with Em, Ali trying to get Rose to engage in the conversation. Eventually we hear Edward's Volvo pull up with Jess, Tyler, and Lauren. Not far behind we see Angie's Honda. Taking a deep breath, I follow Em, Rose, and Ali to the Jeep. Gonna be a long night.

A/N: Ok. Everyone's accounted for. What's that? Someone's missing? Wonder who we haven't met yet….


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you for all the alerts and favorites! Makes me feel good. I thought these words only made sense in my head… LOL

Confession- I might be modeling a certain fictional band after a certain real band of many primates. After seeing them live, I can't imagine a certain bad boy any other way.

Shouldn't have started writing so close to the holidays, but I'll try to get better at updating. I'm not going to make any schedules or promises, though - I don't want to end up not being able to keep my word.

Don't own Twilight. Boo.

BELLA POV

It's a long ride. Emmett is doing his best to keep us all entertained with stories of his sophomore year in college. He's an amazing offensive lineman for the football team, but that's not what defines our Em. When people take in the sheer size of him, his naturally cheerful attitude, his easy grin, his willingness to be the life of any and every party, they assume he's a lovable buffoon of a jock. Lovable, yes. But our Em is not stupid. Emmett is pre-med.

"… so long story short, I fucked up the grade curve. The class was _pissed_, but they should study - I do." He takes a look in the rear view mirror to be sure Ali and I are both laughing. A quick peek at Rose reveals a small smile, but this is just not good enough for him. "What the fuck, Rose? You always laugh when I regale the masses with tales of my academic prowess meeting my competitive streak. Are you still mad about me springing you on my folks? They're fine, really," he says, taking her hand, squeezing it lightly.

"No, I'm fine." Uh, oh. When a girl says she's fine, .. Emmett's a smart guy and has learned from past mistakes. Though he never brought a girl home, that doesn't mean there were no girls. Good God, the girls. So many.

"Rosie, dammit, tell me now so we can get it over with and enjoy the rest of the night. You're making Ali and Bells uncomfortable." Ohhh, no, Em. New mistake.

"Oh, by all means, let's not make 'Bells' uncomfortable." Ok, the look on her face only reinforces the scary bitch conclusion. What did I do? "I'm sorry, Bella, for making you uncomfortable. It was never my intention to make you feel uncomfortable. Because, you know, I just love coming home to meet my boyfriend's family only to see him running into the arms of his beautiful ex-girlfriend, seeing him wrap his arms around her, then shove her in my face expecting me to play nice. I -"

"WHAT?" Emmett, Ali, and I all yell. None of what she just said makes any sense.

"Ex-girlfriend? Rose, are you crazy? Why do you think that?" Emmett is as confused as I am. "That's, that's… gross. She's like my sister."

"Ew," I say. I have a serious command of my vocabulary, right?

"Yeah, you say 'sister', but she seriously looks like 'fuck buddy'," Rose growls.

"EW!" That's Alice. Exactly what I was thinking.

"Rose, that's ridiculous," stammers Em. He looks a little sick. "How can you even think that? Why would I bring you home and then bring her around if that could even be a possibility? You think I'm stupid? Stupid and cruel?" I am starting to think he needs to pull over; he's getting kinda upset.

"You told me she was a your little sister's friend, said she was just a kid with too much hair and not enough meat on her bones. You said she was a _kid_! She is _so_ not a kid. You're hiding something; you must be if you lied. You dated or whatever, didn't you? Don't act like she's not gorgeous. And she _sleeps_ at your _house_! And hugs you and rubs you up and down -" I can't let this crazy talk keep going. But, gorgeous? Nice. Too much hair and too skinny? Not so nice. Hmmm. Time to set her straight.

"Rose, there is not now, nor has there ever been, anything going on between Emmett and me. Ever. Ew. He's my big brother in all but blood. That could never, ever be something to worry about. Ever." Hope I'm being clear, because I'm totally being truthful.

"Besides, Emmett's not her type," chimes in Ali. "She's got her heart set on someone else. There's nothing about her and Emmett to hide. Truly."

"Really?" Rose asks. "Promise, Emmy?"

"Yeah, I swear. I've never lied to you. I don't think of Bella like that. She's just like Mary Alice to me, Rosie. They are my sisters. I told you that. Really."

"Oh, Em, I'm sorry!" And with that, she launched herself at him, at the man driving the Jeep, and started kissing his face with passion. Please don't wreck us.

Ali looks at me with wide eyes and open mouth. "Well, that was entertaining. Homewrecker." I giggled. Yeah, giggled. It sounded wrong to me, too.

"How could she be jealous of me? Does she see herself? Shit, if I was even a little bit bi, I'd be all over her," I whispered. Ali snorted, trying to hold her laughter in. No way. We both laughed until Rose tore her face away from Emmett to glare at us. She may no longer see me as a threat to her and Emmett, but she's still a scary bitch.

We all meet up at Angeles Mall with very little time to shop. Good thing we have Ali. As the guys head over to Spencer's Gifts to play with the plastic, day-glo gag gift boobies, we girls follow the professional shopper among us. She dresses Lauren and Jess almost instantly. It was easy; short, tight, bubble gum colors. Angie gets a denim mini and a halter top. Not too short, not too tight, but cute. Rose is having none of this, and chooses her own outfit. Black hot pants and a red off one shoulder blouse, knee high black leather high heeled boots. Sexy. It always takes a little longer with me. After I shoot down the mini skirt with fishnets idea, Ali settles on super tight black skinny jeans, a black tank top, and my Chucks. We take all of our purchases to the big mall bathroom, block the door with a maintenance sign, and get ourselves ready for a college club night out. Ali gives me bed head, lots of black eyeliner, and many, many black leather and stud bracelets. She single handedly keeps Claire's in business. I think she owns shares in Hot Topic, too. She sends us all out of the bathroom and disappears for a few minutes. Ali comes back decked in old school punk-chic, complete with little plaid skirt. How'd she do that so fast? Amazing.

"Holy shit," says Edward. Jessica preens and smiles, tossing her hair, but he's not looking at her. He's looking at me. Maybe there is a bit of trouble between them. A girl can hope. "What did she do to you and can she do it again?" he says quietly as he walks up to me.

"Edward, are you ready for dinner?" asks Jess, taking his arm and leading him away. He doesn't resist, just asks her what she wants to eat. I'm confused, but I always am when it comes to him. We all make our way to the food court.

As we wander around the food court buying a variety of Chinese, Burger King, and Chick-Fil-A, Emmett decides it's time to really talk, now that Rose has stopped trying to cut me with her eyes. "So, Bells, what happened with Paul? He won't say much, just that it didn't end well." Goody. Let's talk about Paul.

"It just didn't work, is all. We're too different."

"Are you sure? I love the guy, but he has temper issues. Do I need to have a talk with him?" asks Em, very, very seriously. I notice Edward listening carefully. They are both so protective, but this is my deal.

"No, Em, really. We're fine. Paul went his way, and I'm going mine." I can't help but look at Edward while I say this. I want his direction to be the way I go. Jess sees and mouths "back off." Damn. Caught looking.

"Is he where your heart is set?" asks Rose with a sneer. "Another girl's boyfriend? Guess I wasn't too wrong, was I?" She, too, walks away from me to join Emmett who has wandered over to the China Express counter. Only Ali sticks with me, giving me a sympathetic pat on the arm.

"What kind of vibe am I sending out today? Rose hates me, Edwards looking all sexy at me then walking away, Jess is gonna claw my eyes out. Shit. Maybe I should have stayed at home. "

"No, no, you look too good not to be out of the house. Let's just eat, head to the club, and see what the night brings.

"Fine. But when we get home, I'm making a list of all the things that have been weird tonight. I need to sort this out in my head."

Feeding time over, lipstick reapplied, we all pile back into the cars and head to Campus Club. Mikey is meeting us there, so Ali is doing her usual I-can't-wait-to-see-him squirm. I'm almost positive I can hear Emmett roll his eyes.

"Calm the hell down, Alice! We're almost there. Hey, Bella, you ever heard of the band Southern Comfort?" asks Em.

"Uh, yeah. Local, kinda Southern rock, kinda alternative, kinda grungy, if that makes sense. Never seen them, though. Why? They playing tonight? I never checked."

"Yeah. My boy J plays guitar. I've been to a few shows. It can get rough when they play, the crowd loves them, so be careful. Ali, you stay with Mike, you hear me? Bells, you stick by me or Ed, got it?"

"Got it, " Ali and I chorus back to him. I can so stay by Edward, all hot and sweaty… Stop, Bella. You are gonna end up in a fight with one angry girlfriend or another tonight.

We pull into the parking lot of the club. Most of us have been here before, but not all of us together. We meet Mikey, and once we can tear his tongue out of Ali's mouth (Emmett may have hit him just a little too hard on the back of the head), we determine the designated drivers and make our entrance. We aren't the earliest arrivals, but early enough to get pretty good spots on the floor. No tables for us; we're gonna jump, yell, and dance. Hell, yeah. After we get our drinks - bottles of Bud all around for the lucky non-drivers, thanks to some fake IDs - we set our places. Me in between Edward and Em, as promised, though neither Jess nor Rose will really acknowledge me. Ali and Mikey in front of us. Angie and Ben, Tyler and Lauren on either side. Let the bands begin.

The first band is ok, nothing special. Some Green Day covers, some original stuff. They are a college band, so they think they can write. Got us swaying.

I hear Jess over the music, saying, "The singer's hot. You should sing, Edward. That would be so sexy."

"I'm not sexy, now?"

"Of course, you are! I'm just saying it's hot when a guy sings. Couldn't hurt," she cackles. She's cackling. How much has she had to drink already? The first band isn't even done yet. Lightweight. Wait, she's not drinking. She's Edward's DD.

"I think it's hot when a girl can also speak some sense with her mouth. Not that what you already do with it isn't hot. I'm just saying a conversation could be sexy, too. Couldn't hurt," he spits back at her. Does he know we can all hear him? Maybe not. He pounds back his beer as Jess grabs Lauren and excuses herself to the ladies room.

"Bella, come with me. I'm gonna get another beer," Edward says as he grabs my hand. "Want one?"

"Yeah, let's go." He pushes our way through the crows toward the bar.

"Wait here. You still look a little young. Fucking awesome, but young," he smirks, then he's at the bar getting a couple bottles. This is getting interesting. Fighting with Jess, flirting with me. Nice, but not easy. He seems forced tonight. Handing me a beer, he guides me to the little alcove in the hallway leading to the bathrooms instead of back toward the stage. Edward has something on his mind.

"What's up, Edward? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says, shaking his head.

"Bullshit. You're snapping at Jess, avoiding the group. Need to talk?"

He runs his free hand through that gloriously unkempt hair, blowing out a breath before saying, "Jess is getting on my very last fucking nerve. Everything she says is pissing me off. I don't know how much longer I can put up with the giggling, bitchy, air-head attitude. She's wearing me out."

I raise my eyebrows at that last statement. "Wearing you out, huh? I thought that was what you liked most about her." Wow, my turn to be a bitch, I guess. Oops.

He has the good sense to at least look a little embarrassed. "That's not what I mean. There is more to her than sex, Bella. Here lately, though, I just don't like her. We've been together so long. She loves me, but… She's not fun, we don't talk, she doesn't get me. Not like you."

"That's what friends are for," I breathe. We've been here before. He feels the tension just like I do, but he's never been willing to move on it. We just continue to dance around each other. Edward is the one who keeps the dance going, I realize. I've been willing to change the tune for a while. Is he saying what I want to hear, or am I hearing what I want him to say? Where's he going with this?

"I'm sorry I haven't asked about Paul. I never even thought about how it might have been bad for you until Emmett said something. I never did like you with him, so I tried to stay out of it. He just felt wrong for you. I guess I was too happy it was over to really consider how you were dealing with it. You don't seem too torn up, though. Was it bad?"

"The break up? No, that was easy. It was staying together that was tough. You were right, we just didn't fit, Edward. He's not what I want." My heart is beating so fast, I'm half convinced he can see it through my top.

He pushed off the wall he was leaning on and moved closer to me. Closer. Putting one arm on the wall beside my head, leaning towards me now, he asks, "What _do_ you want?"

Oh, God. How long have I waited for this? YOU, I want to yell. I don't, though. Dammit, how can I have any pride at all when it comes to him? But I remember seeing Leah leave Paul's house, what I thought of her then, what I still think of her now. Am I _that girl? _No.

"I want you to decide what you're going to do about Jess." He looks me in the eyes, and I find myself trying to gauge his sincerity. "Is this just a bad night, or are you truly finished with her?"

"I… I… I'm not sure. I know it's been tough, I'm not happy with her. I -," he straightens up now, pulling away from me. Didn't expect to be challenged, I guess.

"When you decide, ask me again. Until then, let's get back to Ali and the rest. The next band is about to start, I think."

I finish my beer in two long pulls, pitch the bottle, and walk away. I have no idea how, since what I really want to do is go back to him, tell him he checks the boxes on the Good Man list, and kiss him until our lips are raw. Huh, stronger than I thought. Looking back, I see a very confused and frustrated Edward. Why, though, why is he confused about _me_? Shaking his head, he finally follows me back out onto the floor in front of the stage. Ali gives me a searching look, raising her eyebrows, as if to ask _Well_? I shake my head, _I'll tell you later_. This time I take a spot next to Ali, in front of Em. I don't think I can stand with Edward right now. A girl only has so much strength. Peeking behind me, I know I've made the right choice since Jess is back and hanging on Edward. When he bends down to kiss her, I'm happy for my moral fortitude. But, fuck, why did I have to be right? I'd rather be happy.

We see the next band shuffling around, setting up. The opening act cleared out while Edward and I were in the hall. They're all shaggy hair and a fauxhawk, bandannas and tight jeans, scurrying around in the dark. They take their places and we see there are two guitars, a bass, keyboards, and drums. I love a five-piece; the sound is so rich. I've heard a live CD of these guys, Southern Comfort, and their sound is exciting. It's modern with a classic rock flair. Emmett is hooting and pumping his fist behind me, eager to hear his buddies. I wonder how he knows them. Are they students? The lights go up, and I completely forget about how Emmett knows them. I forget Emmett, in fact. Fuck. Me.

The lead guitarist is HOT! Shallow, I know, but damn. My knees go weak. Is this guy Emmett's friend? Must meet him. Like, right now. Sweet Baby Jesus. Blond. Not buff, but that wiry, sinewy, lean body that you just know is strong and muscled. Low slung faded-just-right jeans, tight gray t-shirt, cowboy boots. He puts down his own bottle of Bud, and I notice the tattoos. Tattoos. Am I drooling? Then they start playing and my mouth drops open. The very hot guitar player (J?) begins slow and low, using a Bic lighter as a slide. The others join him, the tall, gangly keyboard player begins to sing… _You're a little too lazy for genius… _His voice is hoarse, but attention grabbing, interesting lyrics, but all I can see is that guitar and the man playing it. His head is tilted slightly back, his eyes closed, lips parted just a little… Fuck. Me. _Please._

Alice turns to me, wide-eyed_. _She mouths _holy shit, _to which I nod my head vigorously. She gets an unsettling smirk on her face and begins counting off on her fingers, _musician, tattoos, HOT. _The Bad Boy list. It certainly looks as if I'm looking at someone who might be living up to it. We share a smile and I roll my eyes. I give myself over to the in groove and begin moving my hips, raising my arms above my head. The rhythm really is driving my movements. Then my heart stops. Guitar-playing-sexy-ass-tattooed- J opens his eyes, looks right at me. And winks.

A/N: Already working on the next chapter. Shouldn't be long. The song is Sleeping Giants by 100 Monkeys. Youtube it. You will not be sorry.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hope you had a Merry Christmas. I did, because I got gifts every time I opened my inbox. Thank you for all of the favorites and alerts!

The band is obviously based heavily on 100 Monkeys, but I didn't want to straight up steal from real life. Southern Comfort is different. Not the same I tell you! Their names are different, you see. I just couldn't imagine Jasper singing and playing anything else.

Twilight's not mine.

BELLA POV

Winked. At. Me. Did anyone else see that? And what is that glint? A lip ring. A mother fucking teeny tiny hoop lip ring. Ungh. I can't breathe. He's moved on, stalking the front of the stage, slow and easy. Yeah, I bet. Ali leans into me, touches my lip, and holds up four fingers. _Pierced _she mouths. Um, yeah, I noticed. She laughs and turns back to the stage, moving to the music. I shake my head, trying to tear myself away from the unexpected porno playing in there, imagining all the other possible piercing locations, when Emmett bends toward me to shout in my ear.

"That's J. Dude is cool as shit, huh?" he yells. Em, you have no idea. I give him a thumbs up and turn back to the stage.

It's obvious that the crowd knows the band well. They are singing, writhing, dancing with the music. I understand what Emmett meant about the audience's enthusiasm; it's only the first song and I feel myself being inched closer to the stage. I wonder if it really is the crowd pushing forward, or if I'm just being drawn to _him_. The song ends and moves into the faster groove of a new one. This time, sex-with-strings moves closer to a microphone. If he sings, I may just have an orgasm right fucking here.

"Thank you for comin' out tonight. We're Southern Comfort.," he says lazily with the sexiest hint of a drawl. "We'd like to tell you a story about a man we knew." Oh my God, he starts to sing… _There's a story that we like to tell…_

I start to pant a little, I think, and my legs begin to squirm without my knowledge or permission. I am, I AM going to have an orgasm right fucking here. His voice moves over me like a calloused hand, gentle and rough at the same time. I can almost physically feel it, and I begin to ghost my own hands over the places where I can …

"Bella? Bella, you ok?" Edward's voice brings me back to earth. Most days that voice _was_ my fantasy, now it ruined a perfectly good moment. Damn. What's wrong with me?

"Yeah, fine," I shout. "Why?"

Leaning closer, he yells, "Are you drunk? You're off balance." He actually looks concerned. Was I feeling myself up that obviously? Maybe I should sway less and watch more.

"No, just dancing." How he can hear me this close to the amps if beyond me. Maybe it's a super power. Ok, I am a little tipsy.

They get to the call and response refrain … _Hey Big Daddy!… I love you Daddy! … _I'm right there with them after I catch the drift, caught up in the excitement of the crowd, the band, the music, my lust. My eyes can't help but to stay on him. Anyone can tell he loves this, being on stage, singing, playing. I don't even know him, and he looks happy, blissful, to me. He's beautiful. The song ends, and the tall guy on keyboards sings again leaving J to focus on his guitar….. _I take myself down in my own reckoning It's beckoning me on Still there's something wrong with me I don't know Could it be all the smoke?…_

When J moves to the mic to sing the chorus …_ I love it much too much… _I couldn't agree more.

An hour and forty-five minutes later, the band has finally finished their second encore, and we're heading back to meet up with them. They kept playing and playing in an attempt to satiate the appetite of their audience. I've seen a lot of local music, but these guys by far have the most rabid crowd. They sang every song, cheered at every break, screamed until they got both encores, pushed and pushed forward until Emmett was forced to turn around and tell the whole of the room to back the fuck off. They listened, at least those around Ali and me. Have you seen Emmett? You'd back up, too.

"Damn, Em, they were good. Thanks for the suggestion. You said you know them?" asks Mike, still kind of shouting like the rest of us, ears still ringing.

"Yeah, J and I met over the summer when he worked on Rose's bike." I think we all had a blank look on our faces, because she clarified.

"I ride a Harley. It's old and needed some work. Jasper is the best mechanic in Port Angeles." I have to say, I don't think any of us were really surprised. But I think I have a bit more respect for her. Badass.

"Wait. WHAT'S his name?" Alice caught this before I did. I blame visions of Emmett riding in the bitch seat behind Rose on an old school Harley. You were thinking it too, don't lie. "His name is JASPER?"

"Yeah," answers Rose with a small smirk. "He's from Texas. I guess they're into two hundred year old family names for their kids. Don't call him that, though; he hates it." Hmph. Her name is Rose, she dates a guy named Emmett. Why so snarky?

"You just called him Jasper," I note.

"Yeah, so?" Ok, I hate her again.

"Emmett, you fucker! You said you were bringing some friends, but this must be the entire under-thirty population of Forks!" says Fauxhawk as he steps out of the "dressing room" which, as I peak in, looks like the place the bathroom refused to be, you know, on account of the mess.

"Under twenty, as a matter of fact," says our Em, doing that weird guy-handshake-hug thing. "Fucking amazing set, Jeremy, really." Fauxhawk is Jeremy. Check. Where's Jasper?

"Come on in, we're almost done." We all follow Jeremy and Em into the dirty little room. There are eleven of us. How the hell are we gonna fit? There are a few filthy chairs and a really nasty couch, so the guys sit and the girls sit on their laps. Creative problem solving. I, however, have no guy on whose lap to sit, until I hear…

"You can sit here, little girl." Nice invite, sexy, but yours is not the voice I was waiting to hear. I turned to the back corner of the room to see the tall, lanky keyboard player/singer lounging in an overstuffed, stuffing falling out, chair with his arms open. An obvious bid to have me sit on his lap. To my right, I see Edward start to move Jess in an attempt to stand. He's starting to say something, but is cut off.

"Brian, stop trying to molest the pretty girl. I don't think Emmett likes it." This comes from the too skinny drummer. Cute, but he needs to eat a sandwich. Instead, he grabs a beer.

"You're right, John, I don't. Brian, that is my sister. No touching. That goes for all you degenerates," Em says, meaning every word. Rose rolls her eyes. It's like an art form for her. I think I could learn a lot. "Larry, you, too. Back away from the girl or I'll bust your bass," Em warns the dude standing just a little too close. He backs up like my ass is made of fire. Grrrr, where's Jasper?

"Now, Emmett, you can't be bringing these fine young things backstage without expecting a little inappropriate touching, can you?" And there he is, standing in the bathroom doorway, wet hair, jeans, and bare feet. He's pulling his blue t-shirt over his head, but not fast enough to cover the "I'm Lost.." tattoo on his hip before I decide I will need to lick it before I die. Damn. Just be strong, J, I'll find you. Promise.

Em makes his way over to his buddy with Rose right behind. He does the guy hug thing again, then Rose gives Jasper a real hug. Little jealous, over here. "You were great, J! Loved it! You guys get better every time we see you," Rose gushes. She's being nice. Nice to know she has it in her.

"Thank you, Rosalie," he says with those perfect, full, pouty lips. God, he is fuckhot. Um, Rosalie? Really?

"You're welcome, Jasper." Oh, I get it. It's their thing. Whatever, as long as no one calls me Isabella.

Jasper takes in the room, looking from face to face. The way he pauses when he reaches me makes me wonder if he remembers the wink. Did he wink at me in particular, on purpose? Certainly seems so, judging by the way he looks me up and down. How did that actually feel like a caress? I lick my lips while trying to use my eyes to say _please touch me_. He shakes his head, cuts his eyes to Emmett, and asks, "Who needs a drink?"

Back in the bar, having replenished the great lack of Bud in our hands, we pull a few tables together after Emmett quickly introduces everyone. Our group keeps to one end of the makeshift seating, laughing and carrying on, happy not to be in Forks The band stakes out the other end, rehashing the night's performance. I find myself between Edward and Jasper. Ali and Em are sitting across from us, but since they're lost down the throats of the ones they love, they are no help at all. Though Jess is doing everything except pissing on Edward's leg to flaunt her claim, he is a little too intent on keeping me from talking to the extraordinarily hot musician sitting on my right. No fair.

"So I hear Fiona has a new hobby," Edward says as soon as I start to turn toward J, drawing my attention back to himself. "Doggy parkour?"

"Yeah, she has talent. Charlie's gonna end up teaching her how to shingle a roof if she doesn't stop soon," I answer, widening my eyes, trying to give him a clue. _Shut up. _

I feel rather than see movement to my right. Why-yes-I-do-fill-out-my-jeans-perfectly Jasper has turned slightly, facing me. Taking a long pull on his beer, cigarette in his bottle hand, he squints and asks, "You're Emmett's sister? You and the tiny little punk?" He motions to Ali, who is rubbing the back of Mikey's head. Emmett must have decided the line had been reached.

"Well, kinda. Ali and I have been best friends since forever. I've just always been around. Em sees me as a little sister, so he can be a bit overprotective."

"Cute," he smirks. What. The. Fuck? Cute? What's that mean? No, no, no, I'm not cute! Hot, sexy, available, but not cute. Hell.

"Em says you're an amazing mechanic. You only moonlighting as a guitar god?" That's it, Swan. Be bold.

"Uh, yeah. The shop is what feeds me. The band is where I find my fun," he says with a slow grin.

"Work hard, play hard, right?"

"You could say that," he answers my cliché. Looking me in the eyes, he has the most soulful blue-green eyes, he asks, "Wanna find out how hard I play?"

Yes. Very much. Of course, instead of saying that out loud, I contract a case of mental paralysis and look at him with my mouth hanging slightly open. Must be attractive. At that moment a full bottle is slammed in front of me.

"I got you another beer,' Edward tells me through a clenched jaw. You know, I didn't even notice him get up. Stop interrupting!

"So, are you old enough to drink?" teases J.

"Yes, I am, as long as nobody asks for ID," I smile back at him, hoping I seem witty.

"How old are you, Emmett's kinda little sister?" he asks, leaning just a little closer.

Sensing an opportunity to piss me off, Jess squeals out with a too-wide smile, "Next Saturday is the big one eight, J. You have anything special planned, Bella? You have to have a blow out for your eighteenth."

"No, Jessica, thank you. The bonfire tomorrow is my celebration. Jake and his friends on the rez are doing something, I think." I think I'm clenching my own jaw. Sort of satisfying.

"Eighteen, huh?" Jasper seems to be trying to wrap his head around this.

"Not quite, Jasper," Edward sneers, then drains another bottle. He's jealous! Jealous? Good! "Bella, can I talk to you for a minute?" Without waiting for my answer, he grabs my arm and begins leading me back to the little alcove in the hall. Guess that's his talking place.

"Edward! Edward, get back here! Let go of her!" Jess really has some lungs on her. I look back and see her actually stomp her damn foot. I catch sight of Jasper, too. He looks indolently amused.

Overcoming my stunned silence, I scream a little bit. Maybe it's an actual screech. "Edward, let me the fuck go! What's your damage, Heather?"

"No. No movie quotes. I'm pissed, Bella!" He backs me up against the wall again, in this little alcove that I am coming to hate.

"Why? Nobody's done anything to you. We're all enjoying ourselves, Edward."

"A little too much."

"What?"

"Guitar god? Work hard, play hard? You don't know this guy, Bella. "

"He's Emmett's friend, can't be all bad. And why are you listening? Pay attention to Jessica, Edward," I spit the last part out at him. "Remember her? You can't bring yourself to walk away from her."

"Never mind her. Paul was Emmett's friend. This is how you started that bullshit with him, too! Damn, Bella, how'd that turn out for you? He banged you then bailed! Looking for his replacement?"

I am stunned back to silence. I'm vibrating from the shock. Oh, shit, how much has he had to drink? He cannot possibly have said that to me. Not Edward. Who is this guy? This is the guy he shows to other people, but not me. Never me. Where is _my_ Edward?

"FUCK! YOU! You take that shit back, Edward, right now! How can you say that to me?" Just the volume of my voice backs him off of me. Good move. My dad's a cop; I can hurt him if I choose. The tears are trying to escape, from the shock, the hurt, the anger. No fucking way. I'm stronger than that.

"Edward, I'm leaving. Lauren and Tyler are going to drive me home unless you come with me right now." I look over to see Jess, Lauren, and Tyler staring at our little scene. Jess looks pissed beyond belief, Lauren is entertained, and Tyler just looks confused. "Are you coming or not? Make a choice."

Edward looked pained, torn.

"Yeah, make a choice. For once," I tell him, looking into his familiar green eyes. "Stay or go?"

"I just think you're acting too - "

"Edward, what's your choice?" I cut him off. I see it in his eyes, the fear and confusion.

"Bella, I'll talk to you tomorrow, I promise. I swear." And with that he leaves with his arm around his girlfriend, no apology, no looking back.

I might be turning around to hit the wall. Punching, a little. And kicking. Possibly having a full-on hissy girl fit.

"Bella! You ok?" My Ali comes flying around the corner. I can tell there was a smile on her face a second ago. I can still see the corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly. Guess that changed when she saw me beating up the phone numbers scrawled on the peeling paint in front of me. "What happened? Where's my dumbass brother?"

"He left with his girlfriend after calling me a slut. No biggie."

"He called you a WHAT? I will kill him. Better yet, Emmett will kill him, and his little dog, too. He left with her? What the hell is going on? He called you a WHAT?" Ali has now brought her rant full circle.

"He didn't use the word slut, but it was implied." The tears are coming now. I can let Ali see them; she'll keep them to herself. "He made a pass earlier I told him to choose he chose Jess then I flirted with J then Edward got mad I think he's jealous he has NO right and then he brought up Paul!" That all came out at once. If I'd paused, I don't think I could have said it at all. By this time, Ali is hugging me, patting my hair. And growling. She is going to rip his hair out; he loves his hair. God, I love her.

"Honey, I'm sorry! I ran back here hoping to see the first kiss. Shit. I did NOT expect this. I knew he was jealous - I thought that was your plan! Was it?"

"Uh, no. J is just fucking hot. I was kinda mad at Edward from earlier. I had no plan."

"You are an idiot savant. It would have been a GREAT plan, if you'd had one," she compliments me, wiping my tears. "You wanna go? I'll get Emmett, or Mikey can take us home if Em doesn't want to leave. Ang and Ben left a few minutes ago."

"No. I want to drink and dance and forget. I'm used to him brushing me off. The whore thing was new, but whatever. Let's stay a while," I tell her with what I hope is as brave a face to her as it is in my head.

"All of that was bullshit, but we'll stay anyway so you won't feel guilty. Go fix your make up, then come back to the table," she says, shoving her make up bag into my hands. She knows me so well. "Love you."

"Love you, too. Look, don't say anything to Em tonight, alright?"

"Gotcha. We won't let him tear Edward to shreds until tomorrow." With that she turns, swinging her teeny tiny skirt, and heads back to the table.

Having mopped up a little mascara, added some more eyeliner, and wiped the snot off my face, I walk back into that damn hallway. There's a new addition out there.

"Is the drama over, Bella?" asks so-sexy-I-now-like-this-hallway-a-lot-better J.

"Yeah, the drama left with his girlfriend."

He approaches me slowly, almost stalking. I like it.

"You sure that's his girlfriend? Not you?"

A step closer. I back up until I feel the wall again, never tearing my eyes from his.

"Positive," I breathe.

One more step.

"Is _he _positive of that?"

"He seemed pretty sure when he walked out of here with his arm around her."

J leans in now, placing one arm on the wall next to my head in a moment of déjà vu, then letting his free hand rest on my hip, driving away all thoughts of earlier tonight.

"Then that boy is fucking stupid." He gets closer, watching me through half closed eyes, waiting to see if I will pull back. I don't. His full lips are soft but not weak. Urgent but not aggressive. He wastes no time and runs his tongue along my bottom lip. God, I think I just hummed, not moaned, I won't call it a moan. I part my lips to let him in and am assaulted by the taste of him. Beer, cigarettes, but somehow sweet and, oh, fuck, do that again. I can feel the ring in his lip and, damn, it's sexy. My arms raise on their own, and my hands reach to the back of his head, running my fingers through the thick, soft hair at his neck. His hand tightens on my body as I pull myself closer. He deepens the kiss as he pushes me tighter against the wall and -

"Didn't I tell all you sons of bitches NO FUCKING TOUCHING?"

A/N: The songs are Orson Brawl & Smoke by 100 Monkeys.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Don't own Twilight, but I have touched Jackson Rathbone's chest. Fair trade, I'd say.

Happy New Year!

BELLA POV

I feel J's sharp, frustrated intake of breath as he pulls only slightly away from my mouth. Only his lips leave me, not his body, his hand. But I miss him already.

"Shit," he whispers, so quiet I can't be sure I really hear him. "Emmett, go away, man."

"J, get off my sis -"

"She's not your sister, and even if she was, this would still not concern you. She's a big girl. She can leave if she wants. Bella, wanna go with Emmett?" He'd turned his head to look at Emmett in a way I can only describe as menacing - menacing _to Emmett _- but turned back to look in my eyes when he asked me that question. Question? What? Oh. Right.

"No. Em, I'm fine." Why have I not noticed until now how tall J is? And he smells so good…

"Bella, we're leaving," says Em, never taking his eyes off J. He must have been the one to teach Edward the clenched jaw trick; he's doing it perfectly. I thought these two were friends. Emmett has never freaked out like this before when I've kissed a guy. Even when we were much younger he didn't get pissed. As long as we weren't being mistreated or taken advantage of, Em let Ali and me do whatever we wanted without unleashing the grizzly bear within. Well, within reason, anyway. What the hell?

Jasper pushes himself off the wall to face Emmett straight on. To a casual observer, someone just passing by, he might look relaxed. To me, however, and I'd bet to Emmett, too, he looks ready to pounce. He's positively thrumming with unreleased energy, just barely suppressed power. Pissed off Jasper is hot. And apparently does not like being cock blocked. Good to know.

Emmett, being six feet five inches tall, cut enough to put any Hollywood personal trainer to shame, and very fucking angry at the sight he walked up on, is a little bit intimidating at the moment, as well. They might really fight. How wrong is it that the thought gets me hot? Pull it together, Swan.

"Emmett, go back to the others. I'm gonna say goodbye to J, then I'll leave with you guys. Ok? Ok, Em?"

"Five minutes, Bells," Em says to me. He doesn't look at me, though. They're still eyeballing each other.

"Fuck you, Emmett. What the hell? She'll be there when we're done," J tells him. Oh, shit. I'm starting to wonder if he knows our Em at all. Bad choice. Bad, bad choice.

"When you're DONE? Done with WHAT?" So, I guess caps lock runs in the family, too. Ali would be so proud. "You just met her and now you're pawing her against a wall. Bullshit. She's a kid. Back the fuck off. Like. I. Told. You."

J takes a step toward Em and I just know this shit is going down, now. Thank God they both keep their arms down - loose, held slightly away from their sides, but down. I like how he walks in his cowboy boots. Save a horse…, right? Gotta get my head back in this hallway. Fight. Focus.

"I like you, Emmett. I consider you a friend. So I'm not gonna take you on tonight. But don't ever fuckin' yell at me again. I'm gonna say goodbye to Bella."

"Em, really, it's all right. I'll be there in a minute. Go." He is so not happy with me right now, but he turns after one more ominous glare at his friend and leaves.

As J makes his way back to me, still exactly where he left me because I was too stunned to move, the look in his eyes is that lazy, sexy, cocksure look he had before that bizarre little rip in the fabric of reality occurred. How did he change gears so fast? Leaning back into me, he places both hands on my waist. Placing a kiss on that incredibly sensitive spot just behind my ear, he says, "Leaving so soon, Bella? Too bad. We were just getting to know each other." Another kiss. Oh, hell, I like that. Like, I like it _so much_.

"I know. I'm sorry. I really think I should." Another one. Am I humming again?

"Well, if you think you should." Nipping my earlobe. A tighter grip on my waist.

"Emmett. Shit, I'm sorry about that. He takes that big brother thing seriously, you know." Another kiss, on my jaw this time. It's clenched for a whole other reason now. The stubble, dear Lord, the stubble. So sexy.

"Don't worry about that. It was more about me than you, anyway." Tiny bites on the corner of my mouth. That lip ring. Oh, God.

"Um, huh?" Eloquent, I know, but he just licked my bottom lip again. Bella brain stupid now.

"Topic for another time," he says, spreading out his long fingers to caress the top of my ass. Another time? Yes, yes, yes.

"J, wanna come to a bonfire tomorrow night? On the Quileute Reservation? Food, booze, beach?" I would like to stop speaking interrogatively now, please. "Come. Bring your boys. We'll have fun."

He chuckles before answering. Wait, do badass-motorcycle-fixing-guitar-playing-Emmett-intimidating-guys chuckle? Hmm, guess so. Who knew? "Uh, yeah, well, I'll talk to them. Maybe, ok?"

"Ok." And with that, all thoughts of what I might follow that up with are gone. He's taken possession of my mouth again, right hand rising to my neck, thumb skimming my jaw. There is no struggle for control; I give it to him willingly Too soon, he becomes less heated, his tongue less dominating. It seems to be a move of self-preservation, since he isn't breathing any more than I am. Opening my eyes, I realize for the first time in quite a while that we aren't, in fact, the only people in this club. It only seemed that way to me.

"If you're leaving, you need to go now," he breathes across my face.

"Yes, she does. Emmett is going to blow up any second, and Rose is pissed because he's getting snappy. Everybody else is outside already. Bella, we need to go," says the pint-sized punk princess standing behind him. She comes bearing bad news, but she has a wicked smile on her face that clearly states _you will tell me everything. _You bet your ass I will; it's too good not to share.

"Think about tomorrow. Around nine," I tell him as he backs up to let me go. He's running his hands through his hair in an obvious effort to pull himself together.

"I'll think about it."

"Give me your phone, Jas," says my best friend. Where'd that come from?

Puzzled, he gives her the phone because no one can say no to her. No one. Like, ever. "Did you just call me Jas?"

"Yeah. I don't like J, you don't like Jasper." I hear him muttering Rosalie's name. "So, I decided on Jas. Here, I programmed her number in. I also called her phone so she has your number, too." I feel my phone vibrate as she says this. So calculated. She is so my best friend for life. "Bye. See you tomorrow night." And with that, she gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and scoots out toward the door. J looks completely flabbergasted, mouth wide open.

"It's all right. You get used to it," I tell him. He can only shake his head. With one last quick kiss, I leave with a small, quiet, "Bye."

As soon as I make it out the door, Ali reveals her presence by jumping and squealing my name. "Oh my GOD! Are you kidding me? Holy SHIT, Bella!" There's more, I'm sure, but it's in a sound range too high and fast for human ears.

"Ali, calm down. Em's pissed enough, for some damn reason. Wait 'til we get home."

"Fine. Here, I brought this for you." She hands me a cup of ice and smiles, ear to ear. "Your lips are gonna bruise."

"Mary Alice, you have no idea. If Em hadn't shown up when he did, I might have fucked him right there against that nasty wall. Seriously. I need to change underwear. I need a cold shower. Girls can't get blue balls, right? We might need to consider doing that thing we talked about doing after Eric's Fourth of July party last year. Never mind, stop smiling like that. You can never tell Mikey I said that. Ever. Shit. We need to go home."

"Bella, you need to calm down now, too. We're gonna ride home with Mikey. Em's still ranting; it might not be a fun trip with him and Rose. I was going back with him anyway so he won't mind. C'mon. You can tell us all about it."

Heading to Mike's Charger, we hear Em shouting from inside the Jeep. Yeah, I think Ali has the right idea. Save that confrontation for when we get to their house, with Carlisle and Esme close by. Surprising both Mike and me, Ali climbs into the backseat and pats the space beside her. "You don't think I'm going to wait until we get home, do you? We have to talk NOW."

I climb in and immediately develop the world's worst case of word vomit and spill everything, starting from Edward's comment after we got dressed at the mall and ending with the ice Ali gave me for my swollen mouth. Alice shrieks, growls, purrs, and makes a host of other unknown animal sounds as I relate Edward's bipolar emotional behavior over the course of the night. Even Mikey can't help but let out a few threats and expletives after he hears the Paul-banged-me-then-bailed conversation in detail. He's usually all right with me taking care of myself, but there are some things you don't say to guy's friends. And when Ali told him Edward made me cry, I got the feeling that the Emmett-Jasper showdown won't be the only one I see this weekend.

When I get to the juicy parts with Jas - are we really gonna call him that? - Ali gets this far away, dreamy, droolly look on her face, Mike stops listening, and I gush like I'm fourteen. This is rather unlike me. I mean, yeah, he is so hot that hot is not a hot enough word, but I don't know him. We hardly spoke. I'm puzzled, but Alice seems to know something I don't. She can be so frustrating, like she already knows what's happening before the rest of us know anything's going to happen in the first place. She calls it a feminine intuition that I can't tap into because I refuse to wear heels. Seth says it's her elf powers.

By the time I finish my tale, we've reached the Cullen house. I'm a little hot and bothered thinking about my hallway time with Jasper; getting over my little buzz from the several bottles of Bud at the club; really, really nervous about confronting Emmett; and unsure of how to handle Edward if he's home. None of this was planned. No respect for the list. Good scheduling is just not appreciated. Em and Rose are already here. I might as well get it over with. As soon as we reach the open, cheerful living room, Emmett descends like a dark cloud on the shitstorm that is my night.

"Bella, what the hell has gotten into you? What was that shit about?"

"Emmett, what has you all twisted? I made out with a guy. So? You've seen it before."

"Did I miss something? Have you met him before? You don't know anything about him, Bells. You fight with Edward then jump on the first guy you see. That's not you. There are other ways to get Ed's attention."

"Not about Edward at all. Have you seen your boy? He's fine, Em," I tell him, a stab at lightening the situation. Em has never been this angry at me, and I don't like it. He walks up to me, holds my arms, bends to look me in the eyes.

"No joking. I'm serious. My asshole brother is not worth you putting yourself in another fucked up situation! It's not gonna end the way you want it to, Bella. Please see that, finally."

It's a crowded room: Ali, Mike, Rose, Em, me. But it is so very quiet. Not a sound, no breathing even. At least not after the massive and dramatic intake of collective breath at Emmett's comment. I can't breathe. I can't blink. That hurt.

"Emmett. Stop. That's not fair; you can't say shit like that to her," says Ali, springing to my defense. "Her and Edward is not your business. Hell, her and Jas isn't your business!"

Letting go of me and rounding on his sister, Em hollers, "The hell it isn't! I look out for her just like you, Alice. She's gonna get hurt again, and I will not let it happen."

"Emmett, what are you talking about? All she did was kiss a musician. That's like a rite of passage for teenage girls. Chill, baby," speaks up Rose. Huh? Thanks.

"Rose, you don't have all the facts here, babe," he tells her, beginning to show true concern.

"I don't think I do, either, Em. Why don't you fill me in," I say, not sure if I'm mad or scared.

"I know what Paul was like to you," he says very quietly, looking at me again. "I ran into Sam and Emily in Port Angeles over the summer. We had lunch, started talking about home, your name was brought up. And Paul's. The only reason I didn't come back here that day and beat him until he was unconscious is that I wanted to give you the chance to ask for help. I kinda also thought that if it was really that bad, Alice would have told me, or Ed would have taken care of it."

"Sure, he was an ass, but I didn't think I needed to get you in a fight with your best friend because he wasn't romantic, Emmett," Ali tells him, confused. "I knew Bella wouldn't put up with it for long. And, you know, Edward wasn't really around a lot this summer. He spent a lot of time with Jess. Being all, um, romantic himself."

"And you spent a lot of time with Mike, too, Ali, right? Being romantic? She was on her own with Paul most of the time."

"Well, sure she was," Mike says, finally speaking. "They were together."

"Emmett, please stop," I beg. Please stop.

"Bells, did you tell anyone?" Emmett almost whispers,

"He cheated. Yeah, everyone knows that. I wasn't enough for him, I guess. Embarrassing, but I survived." Looking at Em, pleading. _Please stop._

"Bella." He shakes his head. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

Another sharp intake of breath, this one of realization. "Bella, did he hurt you?" Alice is crying before I can answer.

Not really. Just once. The day I saw Leah at his house. I swear. And that's when I ended it. I never went back; we haven't spoken since. He shoved me down his porch steps; it's not like he punched me, all right? I left. It's done."

"Oh, God. Bella, I knew he was mean to you, he was so jealous, but I didn't know he hurt you. I'm sorry!" She ran to me, hugging me like her tiny arms could fix everything wrong in the world. I let her, because even though they can't fix everything, they make them so much better.

"Uh, Emmett? You ready for a trip to the rez?" asks Mike, grinding his teeth, balling his fists, clutching his car keys. I've never seen Mikey Newton scary before. Well, not until this moment. I love my friends.

"Down, Mike. I have it on good authority that the guys on the rez have dealt some punishment his way. Sam convinced me, after a while, to let them handle it. If I'm the one to show up and kick the shit out of Paul, Jake would probably figure it out. They take care of it, people assume it's about Leah. I didn't think Bells would want her brothers involved."

"No. Thanks for that," I say quietly. You should whisper when telling secrets, you know.

Alice is wiping her tears but still so upset. "WHY didn't you tell any of us? Me? Edward?"

"This is why! Everyone's so upset. It happened. I stopped it. It's over. Let it be over. Please."

"Ok," is murmured around the room, but I'm not convinced.

I look at Em curiously. "Now that you've outed all my drama, do you mind telling me what that had to do with Edward or J? I'm not making the connection." Yes, put the attention back on him.

"You ran to Paul after the last time you and Ed came close to getting together. You had a fight with him and he walked away again tonight - yeah, we all know, don't look surprised - and then I find you pinned to the wall by Jasper Whitlock! Not a great time for decision making, Bells. Don't run to another bad guy just to get Ed's attention. He's not worth the effort."

"Whoa. Back that up. One - All my decisions are not based on your brother's reactions, Emmett. Two - you don't know what he's worth to me. And three - is Jas a bad guy? I thought he was your friend?"

"Jasper isn't a bad guy, Bella," says Rose, defending him, I think. "He has some… issues, is all."

"Oh. Because I invited him to the bonfire, Emmett. Deal with it."

"So did I," chimes in Rose.

"I invited Brian," giggled Ali.

"Shit. I invited them all!" laughed Em, finally starting to behave like himself again.

"Bella." My name is being called from behind me. Shit. Of course. Why shouldn't this get worse? "Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, Edward. Anywhere but the fucking hallway."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: WOW! The reviews have been amazingly encouraging. Thank you. Keep 'em coming! School has started again, so the chapters might take a little longer to be posted. I think I'd probably be fired if I wrote and revised all day rather than taught English. My kids wouldn't mind, but my principal is a stickler… Something about a paycheck and curriculum goals.

Thanks to TheBlackOne23, PJ littlefoot, TwilightAddict71484, snoodles, Twilight Di, True Skye, Vicky-Emmett-McCarty, and a few others for the kind words. Hope you continue to enjoy!

Don't own Twilight.

BELLA POV

Edward turned toward the stairs, I assume to lead me to his room. I, however, walk to the kitchen, my little bit of defiance, my one moment of control in the entire fucking evening. This time, he follows me. Leaning back against the center island, arms crossed, he takes one deep breath, and starts the conversation I'm not sure I want to have.

"Bella, tonight got way out of hand."

"Yeah, it did."

"I don't understand how it got that far."

"Me, either."

"You should be more careful about the guys you flirt with. They have a way of getting the wrong idea about you. Of course, from what I just heard, it sounds like you let this guy -"

"What? You're worried about Jas? I was talking about you!"

"Me? What'd I do?" He looks genuinely confused. Unbelievable.

"Are you kidding me right now? I mean, you cannot be serious!"

"I just think you should have more respect for yourself! Fucking _Jasper_ was down your throat from what I hear! Groping some random dude in a hallway is beneath you, Bella."

"Bullshit. You propositioned me - twice! - while you were out with your girlfriend tonight! You only got prissy after I told you to choose. Which you did, by the way, and it wasn't me. Where's the respect in that, Edward? _Your _respect for _me_?"

"Bella, I'm only trying to look out for you. You mean so much to me."

"I don't mean enough." I move across to him, put my hands on those crossed, defensive arms. "You know how I feel. You've known for so long. Every now and then I think you might feel the same way. When you act like you want me, when you don't want anyone else to get close, what am I supposed to think? Then you run back to Jess, you're all over her, making sure I see you with her! What does that mean? What do you want me to think? Do you even know?"

"I'm confused. I'm sorry. I don't know what to say." He raises his hands to his hair, effectively pushing me away, raking his fingers through it, pushing and pulling so hard it must be painful. "I'm not ready to leave Jess. We've been through too much together for me to throw her away. But… but I can't walk away from you. You're always there. You've always been there. It kills me to see you with anyone else. I hated every second you spent with Riley. Arrogant prick. He flaunted you on his arm every day, right in front of me. And Paul. Good Christ, I wanted to beat the hell out of him when I found out you'd been in his bed. Bella, it shouldn't have been him."

"It shouldn't have, you're right. But who then? You? You've never gotten that close to me, even when you clearly would have been welcomed. You've never kissed me! And tonight you wanted to, and I wanted you to, but not behind her back. That, Edward, is beneath me. It should be beneath you."

"I know. Bella, I just need some time to figure this out."

"You've had time. You should know by now. Am I the one? Am I ever going to be the one?" Looking in his eyes, I only hope I can find the truth in whatever answer he gives.

"I love you, I do. I want you. So bad. But, I, I can't, I just don't… Not now, Bella. I don't think we can be together, like, boyfriend girlfriend together. I'm sorry. That doesn't mean I don't care."

"You enjoy just stringing me along? Damn you, Edward, you knew I was waiting for you to choose me. It makes me want to puke to admit that! What the hell is up with all the touchy-feely shit? Have you been playing me all this time?"

"Not at all. You're so beautiful, so smart and funny. You get me. I'll always want you around."

I can only stare at him. He means it; yes, he certainly does. And judging from the look of utter earnestness on his face, he believes this to be a perfectly logical and acceptable response. Fucker! Selfish, self-centered, arrogant, egotistical bastard. My fists are clenched, my jaw is set, and my eyes are finally opened.

"Leave me alone. No more comments about how hot I am, no displays of jealousy. You stick with your girlfriend and let me get on with my life. Stop teasing me, Edward. It's mean, and I'm not a child. What I do or who I do it with is not your business anymore."

Grabbing my arm, he bends close to my face, a fierceness in his expression. "I can't just sit back and watch you make mistake after mistake. None of these guys deserve you!"

Ripping away from his grasp, I spit out with as much venom as I can muster, "Neither do you."

Stomping out of the kitchen, I head into the living room to find Em and Rose have gone upstairs and Ali is showing Mike out the door.

"Mike, wait." I run up an give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"What's that all about?"

"Thank you for tonight. You really had my back. I think I'll let Ali keep you," I tease.

"Well, thanks. And you're welcome. A guy has to stand up for his friends. You're a tough chick, Bella, but I'm not gonna let anyone treat you like shit. Now you and Alice go have a pillow fight and make out or whatever the two of you do when I'm not around. Take pictures, though," he smirked. He really is perfect for her.

After he leaves, Ali grabs my hand and hauls me upstairs to her room. I have no idea where Edward has gone, but as long as he's not in her room, I don't care. We get ready for bed - me in yoga pants and a t-shirt, Ali in bright yellow bike shorts, a tie dyed tube top, and her hat - and snuggle in under her pink and white striped comforter. Her room is a profusion of every shade and hue of pink, from hot to baby, fuchsia to dusky rose. Stripes, polka dots, and plaids in every combination set against a background of dainty white furniture. It works in the most unlikely way. Pure Alice. She reaches into the purse on her bedside table, pulls out two sheets of paper and hands them to me. They're cream with black borders. The lists.

"Ali, I don't want to do this right now. Enough drama for tonight, ok?"

"Shut up and listen. I'm about to amaze you with my logic. The Good Man list is perfectly valid, chock full of the qualities that would be desirable to any woman. But they don't describe my brother. I love him, I really do. I would defend him against anyone outside our family. You're family, so I can be honest. He's a prick. He is selfish, immature, and spoiled. He expects everything to fall into his lap because it always has. He'll be an awesome adult, but he's not there yet. And he's not right for you."

"I'm getting that now. He's made it perfectly clear he doesn't really want me."

"No, Bella. It's not about him and what he wants. It's about YOU, what is good for YOU, what YOU want," she explained vehemently.

"Ali, he IS what I want, even now," I admitted, the truth being so very pathetic.

"Bullshit." Wow, Ali, tell me how you really feel. "Look at the Good Man list. These are the qualities you thought you were waiting for him to bring into your life, all fairytale-knight-in-shining-armor-esque. This sheet of paper shows how you have always seen him since we were kids. Do you still see him this way? Really? After how he treated you tonight? Don't forget he was a dick to Jess, too. Remember her, his girlfriend? The girl he just can't leave is who he was willing to cheat on with you. Is that a white knight?"

Sitting up and leaning against the headboard, I study the Good list with a much clearer eye than I had the night before. Some things just leap off the page at me. _Compassionate_? _Courteous_? Edward hadn't really displayed skill in either of those areas where Jess was concerned. He'd blown hot and cold with her just like he had with me, embarrassing her when he yelled at her at the club. _Handsome_? Without doubt, But _Trustworthy_? He had done so much to damage that virtue with me, and with his brother and sister, too, from the sound of it. And Ali was right, he would have cheated on Jess, he had made plays in that direction.

I folded the paper and looked at Ali just as the tears came. Not sobs, only noiseless tears. She held on to me, the flaps of her security blanket of a hat rubbing my cheeks as she smoothed my hair. One night was all it had taken to shake my blind devotion to the boy I had loved since I was five. Looking back, I can see now that Ali has known it would never work for a long time. Emmett, too. Thank God they both know me well enough to not come right out and say it; that would have been all I would have needed to devote every moment of my life just to prove them wrong. In the end, it was Edward himself who had to convince me. And that's what he's done, I realize. He's shown me I am not the one for him, and he is not the one for me. I know I deserve more respect, more consideration, than he has to give me. It hurts, I'm disappointed, I'm angry, but I am also oddly relieved. I feel a little … free. I'm tired of worrying about his decisions.

Ali pulls away, wipes the tears off my cheeks with the comforter, and says, "At last." We both let out a nervous, watery laugh. She takes a deep breath, searching my face for signs of a complete breakdown, I guess. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. That light bulb moment was a long time coming, I guess."

"Yeah, honey, I know. I knew you'd get there, though. He's your friend. I just know you guys will get back to that."

"I hope so, but I don't think it will be soon. Not as close as we used to be, anyway. I'm not sure I can just turn this off, my feelings for him, right away. So…" I don't know what to say now. I just can't talk about Edward anymore tonight. I'm a bit drained.

"So, JAS!"

"What about him?" I can't help but smile. If I had any doubt that I was walking down the long road of getting-over-Edward, the mention of J's fine self gave me courage.

"Bella, don't tease. It's not pretty. I think you have another list to think about."

This time, we went over it together, squealing and sighing like fan girls.

"Well, I think he has _HOT_ covered. Damn. Did you SEE his mouth? Oh God."

"Yes, Alice, I saw it. And felt it. You cannot even believe," I tell her. I can't explain what it was like to feel his lips on mine. "We can check off _Pierced_, too. If you ever get the chance, I highly recommend kissing a guy with a lip ring. So sexy. Let's see. _Intimidating_, definitely. Did you see him walk up on Emmett? Most people would have been scared shitless, right? Jas stepped right up to him when Em was yelling at him in that damn hallway. It was amazing."

"No way! And Emmett didn't crush him like a beer can? I missed it!" I have to laugh; she seems truly pissed.

"Oh my God, I kinda wanted to strip us both down right then, but I was afraid Em would get _really_ upset," I laugh again. Just thinking of this guy makes me giddy. Giddy?

"Come get me next time, 'kay? Anyway, that makes him _Fearless - _and stupid, maybe. _Tattoos_, _Musician_, check."

"You know, the way Em has been beating his chest at him, I wonder if he's _Dangerous_, too. Rose said he has issues. I don't know. I hope it's nothing too bad."

"Better consider him _Complicated_ and _Mysterious_ then, too. Seriously, Bella, it's like you conjured him up. I hope he doesn't turn out to be an asshole. I know you got along, obviously, but did you, you know, like him?"

"I think so, yeah. He was cool. We didn't really talk," I admitted. "Wow, not really reflecting well on me, now that I think about it."

"Sometimes, you just have to say 'What the fuck' to quote the great Tom Cruise."

"_Risky Business _reference, nice. You do realize Rebecca DeMornay was a prostitute, don't you? Not really helping!" We both screech with laughter for an embarrassingly long time.

Wiping my eyes and sighing, I tell Ali, "I really hope he shows up tomorrow. It'll suck if he's not there."

"He liked you, you know. I mean, sure, he wanted to get laid, but he paid attention to you. When Ed dragged you out of the room, he watched closely. He asked Ben some questions. Wanted to know the deal with you and Edward."

"Why am I hearing this for the first time now?"

"I wanted to be sure it was what you would be happy to hear." Her logic truly does amaze me.

After sleeping much too late, I brush my teeth to rid my mouth of the lingering residue of stale beer. Ugh, nasty. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, I make my way downstairs praying Esme has saved me some breakfast. With Emmett in the house you never know. He eats almost as much as Jake. I wonder who's around. I almost run back upstairs to Ali's room when I notice Rose alone in the kitchen. Not sure if I'm awake enough to fend off the weirdness that is her reaction to me.

I know you're there, Bella. Good morning."

"Good morning, Rose. Sleep well?" What am I doing? Nervous small talk. Silly.

"Yes, thanks. Mrs. Cullen left bagels, fruit, and coffee for us. We're the only two left around here at the moment."

"Saturday, late morning, so Carlisle's at the hospital, Esme is probably antiquing for a client, Em has gone out for a run, Ali is hiking somewhere with Mikey."

"Very good; you know them well."

"They're my family," I say as I take a seat at the island, leaving a seat between us."

"I'm beginning to see that. No guesses for Edward's location?" she asks, looking at me with more than one question in her eyes.

"Um, no. He drives when he's upset, so there's no telling how far he's gotten by now," I say, waiting to see which direction she would take this conversation. I avoid eye contact while filling one of the plates Esme left out, pouring a cup of coffee. "And, you know, his schedule isn't really my business."

"Glad to hear it."

"Rose, what the hell?" I have had just about enough of her judgmental bullshit. "You don't know me or what Edward and I have been through together. We've been through… our whole lives."

"Bella, I only mean I'm glad to hear you realize you need to let it go. I'm … sorry. I jumped to a lot of conclusions yesterday. I get jealous and bitchy about Emmett. Once I got it in my head to hate your ass, it just stuck." Ok, not exactly what I thought I was going to hear.

"Rose, I swear.."

"I know. I do. You took a lot of shit from me for no reason. I'm sorry about the 'boyfriend' comment at the mall, too. After I saw you two together, I got a better idea of what was going on. I'm happy for you that you moved on from Edward. He treated you, _and_ that Jess, like shit. You're smart to back away. He's pretty, but not _that_ pretty," she laughed.

"Um, yeah, thanks," I tell her, snickering a little myself. "I'm beginning to see that."

She smirked. "You could do worse than Jasper for a little rebound and recuperation."

"What's his deal?" Might as well try to get as much information as I can while she's speaking.

"Sexy as hell, obviously. Doesn't talk a lot, but not because he's anti-social; he just only speaks when he has something to say. Long way from home, getting distance from a fucked up family. Pulled a year as a juvenile for boosting cars," she says, pausing to gauge my reaction. I don't really have one. "You took that well."

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Good attitude. He's strictly straight now, when it comes to cars. Best mechanic ever. He doesn't really 'do' relationships, Bella. There have been more than few girls going home from his apartment with their panties in their purses. If you see him again - and I think you might - it most likely won't turn into a fairytale."

"That's fine. Fairytales don't seem to turn out all that great for me."

"Hm. Where's the fun in a guaranteed happily ever after anyway? Part of the excitement is the anticipation, waiting to find out what happens next."

"Agreed. You think he'll come tonight, to the bonfire?"

"I think so. He liked you enough to stand up to Emmett. A scary thing under any circumstances, but they're actually very close friends. Em needs someone outside of school he can be his crazy-assed self with. Jasper doesn't have any pre-formed expectations of him. If Em wants to get trashed, Jasper's up for it. If Em needs to cram for an exam or something, Jasper does his own shit and doesn't push. Jasper just accepts who he is, and Em does the same. So backing Emmett up was a big deal."

"Thanks, Rose," I say. I'm kind of in awe. Of her, of Emmett, of Jasper.

"What for?"

" For telling me all that. Not just about J, though that is all good to know, but about Em. I miss him so much; we all do. He looked out for all of us. He made us all popular, you know. Sounds dumb, right? But that's everything in high school, especially in a small town. He took his little brother and sister, the wonder twins, one of whom was an egghead, the other definitely marching to her own drummer, and their daughter-of-the-police-chief-must-be-a-narc friend, and turned us into Forks High royalty. Well, along with the cheerleaders and football players, of course. He was King Shit here. But he never left any of us behind. He truly is the best big brother ever. You're lucky."

"Thanks, Bella. I really do love him."

"I think he's lucky, too, Rose. I also think we were set up. This house is never empty and quiet for this long."

"I suspected. Sneaky. They're a great family."

"See why I claim them?"

We spend the remainder of the morning eating Esme's brunch, cleaning the kitchen, and talking. It's relaxed. She's still a scary bitch, but I have the felling she's a scary bitch who's on my side. By the time Emmett, Ali and Mike show up, within ten minutes of each other, we're friends.

Emmett and Rose disappear together to do things I will not ask about, and Ali, Mike, and I spend the afternoon with John Hughes films, tortillas and salsa, a little weed, and her walk-in closet. I call home to check in then get dressed. We meet everyone downstairs for dinner before we have to head for La Push. After the most delicious pasta and salad, raucous conversation, and a near food fight between Emmett and Mike, Esme tells us all to be careful, Carlisle tells us to call if we can't drive, and we head for the reservation. Edward still hasn't come home, J hasn't called and I'm too worried about appearing clingy if I call him, and Mike and Emmett still might want to make Paul bleed a little bit. Tonight is gonna be interesting, to say the least.

**A/N: Jasperlicious goodness coming in the next chapter.**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Sorry this has been so long coming. Work sucks.

Don't own Twilight, but I wish I did so I could have less paperwork to do.

This road trip is both shorter and more fun than the last. I'm not scared, Rose isn't being a bitch, and Emmett is keeping the Jeep between the lines. There is an undercurrent of excitement and anxiety, though. I can't wait to see Jas, I'm scared he won't show. I'm hoping Edward and Jess stay away, but we'll miss him if they do. Emmett and Mike are trying hard to control their bloodlust, but I am fairly certain that if Paul shows up, things will get ugly fast. All of us are ready to get our Rez-Party on, to drink and blaze, dance and play. We're kids, there will be booze and illicit substances, and there exists the possibility of violence. Could be the best party ever.

Emmett's Jeep is coming in quite handy for this adventure. With Em and Rose, Ali and Mike, and me all piled in, the extra room is needed. We're all dressed for a warm late summer night, but we all know full well that within an hour or two, even for us Washington State kids who are not easily intimidated by weather, more fabric will be required. That explains the five backpacks thrown in the back with the sleeping bags, blankets, flashlights, and stockpile of beer, bourbon, and vodka. You never know what you'll need when you party at First Beach. We're veterans; we come prepared, and I have a checklist.

As we pull into the parking lot at the top of the path leading down to the shore, I notice a bunch of the other kids from Forks have pretty much followed our pattern. The guys are all outfitted in only slightly varied versions of the same outfit: cargo shorts to the knees in differing shades of khaki or beige, solid-colored or surf shop t-shirts, and, almost exclusively, Vans sneakers. These Stepford Dudes are all unloading the trunks or truck beds of their vehicles - backpacks, blankets, beer - while trying not to eye fuck their buddies' girlfriends. Because we girls, well…

You know how Halloween is really just a free pass for teenage girls to dress like total sluts and get away with it without being _called_ sluts? It's like that. Ali has opted for the innocent-slut incarnation. Softly curling hair, light make up, jeweled sandals, and a white, long-sleeved eyelet dress that seems really sweet until you notice that, though it is loose and swingy, it only barely covers her ass and the square neckline is so low-cut that she had to wear a pretty eyelet bra with it. Bohemian Ho. Rose is going with the it's-summer-at-the-beach-and-I-dare-you-to-call-me-a-slut look. Flowing blonde waves, cut-offs, tighttighttight little red t-shirt, wedge heels. California Beach Ho. Then there's me. Well, I can only be who I am - rocker slut? Short, faded denim skirt, flip flops, knotted vintage Joy Division concert tee (I'm feeling an original emo Ian Curtis vibe today), loose, messy updo, lots of eyeliner. Reluctant Ho. Yeah, there are only two or three parties on the rez a year - we go all out.

Grabbing my pack and heading down the path to the water, I hear my name being shouted. "Bells!"

"Jake! How was story time? Did the elders have a big crowd for the histories?" I ask him as I make it to the rocky sand.

"Nah, not really. Most of the other guys think they're full of shit. I think me and Embry and Quil are the only ones under forty who showed up," my brother said, a little ashamed and a little proud at the same time.

"I'm sorry. But did you guys enjoy it?"

"Yeah, we did. But I'm more ready to enjoy tonight! What happens on the rez, stays on the rez, right, Bells? You don't tell, I won't tell. Deal?"

"Deal with conditions," I tell my little bro, straining my neck to look up at him. "You do anything that can get you hurt or arrested, I get Emmett to put a stop to it. Don't get so wasted that you pass out; those idiots you call friends would let you choke on your own puke. You can't leave the reservation, not one inch outside the border. And no driving. AT. ALL. Accept my conditions?" I am totally serious.

"Yes, with a few of my own."

"Jake, really. I mean it."

"So do I. One, same shit as me; no arrests and no broken or bloody body parts. Two, no random hook ups, although I don't think I have to worry about that. Judging by the non-length of your skirt, I'd say you have someone in mind."

"Jake! Um, how'd you know?"

"Psh, I know my sister. You don't put it all out there, not like _that,_ for no reason, even at these parties." He's right; he knows me. "And three, stay the fuck away from Paul if he shows up. Even with me and Emmett here, I don't trust him with you. I don't like the way he talks about you anymore. Besides, he'd show up with that bitch Leah, and she fuckin' hates you."

"No shit. It's mutual," I sneer.

"Whatever. So, do you agree with my conditions?"

"Yes, Jake, fine. Come get me if you need me, ok?:

"Yeah, you, too. Have fun!" he yells over his shoulder as he tears down the beach toward his group of friends. The little red head standing with them watching him run toward her is new. Maybe I should have reminded him to use a condom. I take out my cell and send him a text when I feel someone reading over my shoulder.

"Who's getting lucky?" Fucking hell, would it be wrong if I just go ahead and tell him that _he _will be getting lucky? Just cut to the chase? His voice sends shivers down my back. Sending the text, I put my phone away and turn to face him.

"Hi, Jas."

"Hi, Bella," he said, looking at me with an expectant half smile.

"My little brother has a likely prospect. I'm just sending him an important reminder," I say, earning a raised eyebrow.

"A big sister who is actually enables juvenile sex instead of cock blocking her little brother? Nice."

"Thanks. I'm glad you came. Did the rest of the guys make it, too?"

"Yeah, they're back at the van trying to decide if they want to bring their guitars and shit. Should they? Is it like that here?"

"Yeah, definitely. Once the Jack and Coke starts to flow, they might even have more back up singers than they need."

"Cool. I'll go help them, then. Find you in a while?"

"You better," I breathed as he walked back up the path.

"He's not in uniform," Ali whispers in my ear as we both watch him and his fine ass walk away. God, I love loose, low slung jeans.

"Eyes off Bella's musician, Alice," groans Mikey. He's not really mad. We're all used to Ali being easily distracted by new shiny things.

"I'm only admiring his fashion rebellion," she pouts, then grabs Mike's hand and heads off toward the already raging fire. Em and Rose, he bearing our beer and booze, move with the rest of the loping parking lot crowd to join the central cluster of people ready to get this party started. Em catches my eye and gives me a look that clearly states _I'm watching you. _That's comforting and annoying in equal measure.

I walk down to the water's edge, enjoying the smell and sound, while I wait for Jas to reappear. I love this, the edge of the world where land meets water meets sky. It makes me feel insignificant and inspired, reminding me of the fact that there is so much more to this life than I can hope to know. It makes me want to learn and experience and dare. I always become so lost in my head standing in the froth of the incoming tide that it's no surprise I don't notice someone walking up behind me until he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey." Turning, I look up into those blue-green eyes, more green than blue tonight. "Beer?"he asks, handing me a bottle.

"Thanks, Jas."

"You're really going with 'Jas'? Does the tiny one have that much power? What if I prefer 'J'?"

"Well, Emmett will probably be able to resist her. As for the rest of us? Resistance is futile," I giggle. What? Fucking giggling. And Star Trek quotes. Kill me now.

"From you and Alice, I can take it, I guess," he smirks. Hell, he gives good smirk. "So, this is your crowd?' He sweeps his beer hand in a motion that takes in the beach and the revelers occupying it because his other hand has made its way around my waist to rest at the small of my back. No guile, no embarrassment, no clever moves; he just placed his hand on my body and pulled me closer, picking up on the ease we shared last night. Confident and sexy.

"Yeah, a lot of them are friends, the rest are at least acquaintances. This is pretty much an invitation only deal, so we all know each other."

"Well, shit, How'd y'all rate an invite?" And there's the accent. I think my thighs are shaking.

"My brothers are Quileute. Adopted. So the tribe is family. Em and Edward grew up close to a lot of the guys here, too. Hope you guys don't have plans for tomorrow. We all usually crash here on the beach and drag our hung-over asses home in the morning. It can get , um, rowdy here."

"I was kind of hoping for rowdy," he says quietly, with a small almost-smile as he leans into a kiss that makes my eyelashes curl. Somehow my arms wrapped around his waist where my hands fisted in his black t-shirt; I don't really know when I dropped my drink. His cold beer bottle makes me shiver as it rests on the thin sliver of skin between my skirt and top, and he moves his free hand down to slip his thumb inside along the waistband of the skirt that all of a sudden feels like too much clothing. I may be whimpering, and I'm damn sure he's growling. Jas dips his head to kiss me in that fuckawesome spot behind my ear, allowing me to catch a little air for my panting lungs. Lips, tongue, and teeth conspire to reduce me to a moaning mess in his arms. As I slip a hand up into his hair, I make the mistake of opening my eyes. It's at this point that I must acknowledge the presence of the very large crowd of people surrounding us.

My gaze is met with three highly pissed off pairs of eyes; Jake's brown, Emmett's blue, and… green. Shit.

Edward.

I'm tempted to deepen this kiss further and really slut it up for Edward's benefit, but I'm not really an exhibitionist. Especially with my little brother watching. STOP WATCHING, JAKE! Besides, I don't really like the idea of using Jas that way - at least, not without his knowledge.

"Jas. Jas, hey. Mmm, that's good. I mean, let's go…ohh…let's go get a stronger drink and sit by the fire. Come hang out with some people. We've got all night. I wanna say hi to your boys. Ok?"

Moving down from my ear, he gives a slight, tiny, little, nipping bite in the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. "Why? Hm?" Reluctant much, Jasper? My turn to smirk.

"Um, cuz we are putting on a show not fit for a PG-13 audience right now. These people know me; I go to school with them. We have all night, Cowboy. C'mon, move your boots toward the fire," I explain as I move away, regretting every word and each step. I hear him mutter something about nobody here being thirteen, but he follows me toward our friends. He doesn't hold my hand. We haven't actually spoken to one another beyond what is absolutely necessary. Most of what we know about each other has come from other people. What the hell am I doing? Why don't I care? Oh, hell, we need to _talk_. Shit. I have so many other things I'd like to do with our mouths, but I guess I should at least attempt to be less of a slut with this guy. He did show up tonight, right? He must want to spend some time with me. This sexy, mysterious, man of few words.

I can feel the heat of the fire and hear the laughter of our friends. I guess Jas and I aren't the only ones getting along. Ali is laughing hysterically at something Brian has said. Mikey is holding her in his lap, making damn sure these guys know she's off limits. Rose is sitting with Jeremy and John, all three doing shots of something clear. Larry has found a cute little dark-haired girl to impress. However, all is not smiles. Brown, blue, and green are still staring at me. Brown fires the first shot.

"Bella, who's your friend?"

"Jake, this is J. Jas, this is my brother, Jake. He's a mechanic, too. Jacob, be nice."

"S'up." Jake.

"Hey." Jasper.

Stellar communication skills, no? Jake is sizing him up, satisfied that he is indeed taller and more buff. Somehow, though, Jas still seems more of a threatening presence. Coiled tightly, ready to spring. Fucking hot, if you ask me, that barely contained quality he has.

"Welcome to the Rez. Stay on the beach, stay out of the water, have a good time, and try not to molest my sister in plain view of all my friends," Jake says, staring unblinking at Jas.

"All right. Thanks," Jas replies with a head nod. Respectful of my brother's show of protectiveness. They now have a full understanding of each other in a thirty-five word conversation. Good boys.

Blue's turn. "Bella…." Em trails off, having noticed the look Rose is shooting his way. "Be careful, kid. I'm backing off."

"Thanks, Em. I am really am ok. I'm in control. Don't worry; I'm a big girl," I try to reassure him as I give him a quick hug.

"J, a word?" Well, apparently brother bear will back off only after he has his say. I hope I haven't messed up their friendship. From what Rose said, they both need it. Em leads Jas just a few feet away. After some pointing to where J and I were staging our piece of performance art a few minutes ago, Em points at me then J, then to Jake and himself. Even I get that message. I guess Jas said the right thing in response because they do the guy hug thing, and he and Emmett make their way to Rose and the growing crowd doing shots.

That leaves Green. He's standing just a little beyond the light of the fire. Tyler, Lauren, and, of course, Jess are busy arranging their own coolers, blankets, and backpacks. They haven't been here long, I guess. Judging from the look in Edward's eyes, though, they've been here long enough. Those beautiful eyes, the ones I used to love so much, hold so much _anger_ at the moment, I almost don't recognize them. He's got a bottle of Jack in his hand and a look of contempt on his face. He looks from me to Jasper, then takes a long swallow. He does not speak to me at all. Maybe it's for the best.

I join in on the next round of shots, say hi to the band. Brian comes over with Ali and Mike and gives me a one-armed hug, to which Jas responds with a low _Hey Fucker_. Brian releases me immediately. I like all of that, all that stuff that just happened. He isn't willing to share. At all. Nice. I give Ali a little peck on the lips because I know how Mike loves it, grab Jas by the hand, and lead him to where there are some couples dancing.

"I thought you wanted to talk with our friends," he says, again placing his hands on my hips, this time to lead me a in slow sway to the music coming from someone's Ipod speakers. Jack Johnson. Sweet.

Running my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, I reply, "I decided to talk to you instead."

"Ok."

"I'm glad you guys decided to come tonight."

"Yeah, you said that. Well, I am, too. Besides, we had _so many _invitations we kinda had to come," he said, almost chuckling, shaking his head.

"Em seems happy to have some of his friends, his new friends, here. It's good to see him at ease."

"It's hard for him to come home, you know."

"I know. I just don't know why," I tell him, truly confused.

"Most of it is for him to tell. But I can say that things between him and your Ed aren't great. And he told me about some dude he was gonna have to kill, and if he did that, things around here would get tense."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"It's my fault he doesn't come home. Shit. And he's not my Edward."

"Not anymore, huh?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. So hot.

"Not ever, really."

He holds me tighter as the song changes, remembering to move us to the slow new beat. "How is it your fault?"

"Not sure what's up with his brother, but the guy he wants to kill is his former best friend. And my ex. Who was not nice to me. Em is not cool with that. I didn't tell him; I didn't want to start shit between them. He found out anyway. Em isn't cool with that, either, so he's doubly pissed. My fault."

"Em told me this fucker hit a girl. You?" He's not dancing anymore, staring very intensely at me. I am kind of getting a sense of what it might be like if he lost control of the tightly bound potential he carries. A scary thought, but I am so turned on by the look in his eyes that -

"Bella, was it you?"

"Yeah, kind of, but I left him immediately. Jas, please don't say anything. My brothers don't know. Please?"

"Ok. I understand Emmett a little better, though. No one should hurt you."

We begin to move again, but only barely, only enough to be able to say we're dancing if someone asked.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For caring. You don't even know me."

He pulls back, looks me in the face, grabs my, and leads me away from the others to sit on a fallen tree. Did I piss him off? How?

Sitting very close to me but no longer looking at me, he says quietly, "That's not true. I do know you, Bella. I know my best friend loves you, and he's not really close to many people. He knows a lot of people, but he doesn't get close. You are important enough to him that he is ready to destroy a guy he's been close to since childhood. I know your other friends are fiercely loyal to you. I know you won over Rose, and that is fuckin' amazing to me. I know you don't just listen to music, you feel it. I know you are your own person and make your own decisions. I know you know more about me than I'd like, and yet you don't judge past mistakes." He suddenly looks up at me with lust in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze searing into me. "I know you are seventeen, but you are so fuckin' hot that I'd gladly break the law again. I know we both catch fire when I touch you. And I know you kinda like me, too."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you to those who have been reviewing. You have all been so good to me! I love that my Jas makes you happy. I don't mind sharing a little… but you have to give him back… and give me some feedback!

Don't own Twilight.

…_And I know you kinda like me, too._

I can go one of two ways here. I can continue to stare at this beautiful man with my mouth hanging open, or I can respond to his beautiful words with heartfelt prose of my own.

Fuck that. I choose option three.

I launch myself at him, knocking us both backwards over the fallen tree we're sitting on. Once I have him on the ground, out of easy sight of the rest of the people who are so inconveniently on this beach, I attack his mouth with all the feeling his words inspire. Straddling his hips in the most indecent manner, I try to assure him with my body that I do, I do like him. Like? Hell, I don't truly believe that to be the right word. Laying myself on his muscled chest, I again feel the need to run my hands through his thick, slightly curly, shaggy, dirty blond hair. I am so, so, so happy when I feel those strong, tattooed arms reach around me to hold me closer to him. My turn to explore; I leave his mouth to lick and nip a trail to the spot behind his ear that he so likes to visit on me. I am rewarded with a quiet _fuck, Bella_.

Jas somehow takes control, even from his position beneath me. One hand on my ass, one hand moving to my hair, releasing it from the clip holding it up, he captures my lips again. He deepens the kiss, becoming more aggressive, more demanding with his tongue. Biting my bottom lip then releasing it slowly from between his teeth, he gives us both time to take a breath. He settles into place, bending one leg upward until I can feel his thigh behind me. A slow grind from me gets a low moan from him.

"Yeah, Jas. I kinda like you, too," I murmur against his full, pouty, perfect lips. I can't resist; I place a tiny kiss on the lip ring.

"Good." And with that, he pulls my face back to his and kisses me again. I could get used to this. His kisses aren't teasing, aren't light, aren't gentle. Jas kisses me with intent, with passion, with need. Riley never kissed me like this; he didn't have the ability, I'm sure. This kind of kiss comes from experience. Paul never kissed me like this; there is a difference between possession and passion. This kind of kiss comes from want not greed.

Just as his hand starts going up the back of my shirt, a couple runs by headed down the beach, the girl squealing. Jas gives another groan, this time in frustration, and sits us up, pulling down my skirt. Good God, I love how he's comfortable enough touching my body to do that. Sends shivers, I tell you.

"Let's go back. We can hang out a while. I'll play a little, then we can get a blanket and find somewhere quiet. Sound good?" he asks standing, shaking off the sand that has stuck to his hair and back, then taking my hand.

"Yeah," I tell him, wiping the sand off my knees with my free hand, "sounds good." We reluctantly leave this happy place and head back over to the fire, which is now surrounded by a variety of knowing looks. Some are just amused to see Bella Swan back in the saddle, as it were. Some are shocked because no one here but my little group of friends knows who this guy is. One or two are jealous; I do have my admirers, and Jas is just fucking hot. Some are concerned - hello, Em and Jake. And some, ok two, are delighted; that would be Ali and Rose. _Everyone_ is staring at our entwined fingers.

We step over legs, around bottles of beer, between people, to reach a relatively open spot between Mike and Ali and Rose and Emmett. There is really very little room so I am forced to sit between Jas's legs and lean back on his chest. Bummer. It's a sacrifice of personal space, but I'll manage. Ali and Rose love this; Emmett not so much, but he is being a good boy and keeping his mouth shut. His eyebrows, however, have a mind of their own; any higher and they'd disappear.

"So, what's up?" I ask no one in particular. I'm trying very hard to be nonchalant_. It's ok to stop staring people; all is normal here. _Yeah, right.

"Rose and I were just about to go change. It's getting cold. Coming?" This is Alice's way of saying _Come with us right fucking now and tell us what just happened between you and the hunky piece of man meat that is Jasper Whitlock. _At least, that's how I interpreted it.

Turns out I'm right. She and Rose are silent as we retrieve our bags and head a little ways into the woods up by the parking lot. Not too far in - shit gets scary in there at night. You never know what could be lurking in the woods around Forks, Washington. No sooner than we get beyond the point of prying male eyes than Ali practically screams, "SPILL IT, BELLA!"

"Oh, my God, Bella, I've never seen him _hold damn hands _with anyone before! What did you do? Did you _do something_, like, already? Explain!" Rose is smiling, yelling, shaking her head, totally wide-eyed-confused.

"He's amazing. I thought it was just hot monkey sexual attraction, but he said the most beautiful things to me. He likes who I am, he's not just looking for a hook up. I couldn't believe the things he said. I was speechless!"

"OH MY GOD! He talked? He must really like you," says Rose. Yeah, that's what I said, right?

"What did you say?" asks Ali, not quite understanding the "speechless" part of what just I told her. She's hissing through her teeth from the cold. Alice is doing an entire wardrobe change. Tight fitting stretch blue and black flannel pajamas with Uggs. Not kidding.

"Nothing. I knocked him over and kissed him stupid. It seemed like the best choice at the time."

"I bet it did," Rose says under her breath.

"Well, my my, Rose. Lusting after my new man?" I laughed at her.

"Well, yeah, duh. I love Emmett, but I still have eyes," she huffs as she finishes pulling on her jeans and sweatshirt.

"No shit," breathes Ali. "That boy does strange things to my girly bits."

"Shut up. The only girly bits he's doing anything to tonight are mine," I tell her as we laugh a little hysterically. I've just finished tying my Chucks after adding thick black leggings and a warm hoodie to my original outfit, when we hear a sneering voice. Fuck Jessica and the broom she rode in on.

"Bella, you seem to have found a replacement for my boyfriend. A nice, quick rebound. Good for you," she whines.

"Yeah. Try not to advertise what a whore you are, though. Although, I can't blame you for being all over him. That's the guitar player from last night, right?" This from Lauren who, before she somehow snagged a good guy like Tyler, used to give hand jobs to basketball players on the athletics bus. Fucking cheerleaders. I ignore her stupid ass.

"Jess, I didn't need to replace Edward. I chose J. You might wanna have a talk with your boyfriend about why I had a choice at all, though. Have a good night, Jessica. Ed looks like he's in a great mood," I tell her sarcastically. "Hm. Wonder what has him so upset." Chew on that, bitch. My girls and I turn and leave those two lovely ladies in the woods and make our way back to our men. I wonder if I can really call Jas mine. Mine for tonight, anyway, and right now that's good enough.

"You are so gonna die for that, Bella. Ed is gonna lose his shit," Ali says with… respect?… on her face.

"I couldn't give a shit. He made this bed. Now he can go fuck himself in it. He's Jessica's problem; I just gave her a heads up about what a problem he is."

"Cold, Bella," Rose responds. "But I guess after last night, he deserves it."

"Just don't start a feud, babe. You'll end up missing him if you burn that bridge down. Plus, Emmett and I would hate to have to choose you over our own brother," Ali says snidely.

"Let's just not talk about him anymore, ok? I'm finally gonna just enjoy myself," I plead. I've wasted enough time worrying about a certain green-eyed-dysfunctionally-possessive-supposed-best-friend.

"Well, Bella. There's a lot to enjoy."

I follow Rose's gaze to the most wonderful sight. Jas and Jeremy have their guitars on their laps, and Jas is singing. Eyes closed, his fingers on the strings, he just looks so peaceful. His voice, oh sweet Jesus, his voice, deep, rich, smooth, no strain; it just flows through him like the notes he coaxes from his instrument. I am in awe, as is every other girl on this cold stretch of sand.

_Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road…._

Holy shit. Is it possible he knows I would burn down a small town for the chance to share air space with Billie Joe Armstrong? That the Green Day front man is the reason Jas's own lip ring has me ready to strip down and take him _vigorously_ on sight? Fuck me running, this guy has a direct line to what makes my vagina quiver.

_Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go…._

"Hey, Bella. He is so getting laid, huh?" I turn to see that Angela and Ben have finally arrived. Angie is laughing her ass off. She knows how I feel about Billie Joe and his lip ring.

"A distinct possibility, Ang. If he attempts a song by Bob Segar, I may not be able to wait until we get to somewhere private." Bob Segar is old, for sure, but his voice is girl Viagra.

Leaving a giggling Angie, I make my way back over to the fire and shove Ali over so I can sit next to Jas. I'm mesmerized just listening to him. Looking at him too is almost too much. Almost. It's like I can't get enough of him. He was sexy as hell before, but now that he's told me that there is something more for him, I can't wait to get him alone again. There will be sexy time, of course, but I want to tell him how I feel. I want him to know how amazing I think he is. I've learned a lot from Rose, just like he obviously did, and I feel like I know him, too. Not expecting a fairytale. Don't want one. I think real life with this guy will be so much more fun.

After about an hour of Jas and Jeremy playing and singing, switching lead effortlessly, Jas put down his guitar, grabbed my hand, pulled me up, and walked us away from the group. Damn, he's smooth. Confident. Guess it's alone time. I'm totally fine with that. Jas picks up a big plaid blanket, a bottle of Jack, his hoodie, and a flashlight, and we walk down beach for a little privacy. There's a little haven of solitude around a slight bend in the shoreline, and we stop there. Jas lays out the blanket and has a seat, pulling me down with him.

"You and Jeremy were just great. You both play so well, and I love your voice. How long have you guys had the band?"

"Thank you. We've been playing together with this line up for about a year. Brian, John, and me have been playing since not long after I got to Washington."

"From Texas?"

"Rosalie is your source, too?"

"I'll never tell," I say, smiling up at him. "Do you get to call her Rosalie because she calls you Jasper?"

"It's more like a mutual irritation. Rose was my first friend here. I lived in the same building as her dumb fuck of an ex-boyfriend. He was displaying his particular brand of dickhead one evening, and I convinced him it was time for Rose to leave. I made sure she got back to her dorm. We've been family ever since."

Wow. He is so surprising. A good badass. "So, you kinda get where Em is coming from? I really fucking hate to think I'm coming between Emmett and another one of his friends."

Jas throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close into his side. "Yeah, I do. But I need him to remember I'm the same guy he's known for a while now, and get off my ass for being all over yours," he tells me with the most devilishly delicious smirk on his face. "We're friends, you know? You'd think he would trust me." He really seems hurt, a little confused.

"Paul was his friend, too. He feels responsible for that whole fucked up mess, I think. He's not, but Em takes his job as my and Ali's protector very seriously. He's just being cautious, Jas. He's come around now, don't you think? He and Rose talked you guys up before the show last night. They were proud of you."

"That's good to know. But I don't want to talk about them anymore tonight. Let's talk about you," he says, leaning down to kiss me lightly on the lips, then pulling back to look me in the eyes.

"Or not talk at all," I pout.

"No, Bella. Plenty of time."

"Fine. You're right. Thank you for what you said before. I don't think anybody has ever blown me away so thoroughly with words. I can't believe you think that much of me."

"You know, I felt like I'd met you even before last night, from all I'd heard about you, all of you_. I _was blown fuckin' away when I saw you. I was definitely not told you were so damn hot. "

"Thank you again. I think you're sorta beautiful. In a very manly, badass way, of course." I actually got him to laugh at that one.

"Why, thank you, ma'am," he drawls, still laughing quietly.

"So, you fix bikes. Do you ride one?"

"Oh, yeah. 1990 Harley Softail. My baby. Restored it with my dad. Finished just before I moved up here. It's the only good thing to come with me."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. My dad died, my mom remarried a guy who hated her kid. I showed him, though," he snorts bitterly. "I stole cars, got fucked up, got arrested. I know Rose told you I did year as a minor."

"She did. Do you steal cars anymore?"

"No. But I do still get fucked up on occasion," he tells me with a raised brow, testing my reaction.

"I don't steal cars, and I too have been known to get fucked up now and then myself. So I have no problem with what you did then, as long as it stays in the past. Everyone makes shit choices sometimes."

"Thanks. You are so fuckin' cool, you know that?"

"Yeah, I do." And with that, I can take this no longer. Being this close to him without devouring him just is not possible anymore. Turning my head to meet his mouth, I give a light, tentative peck. Is he into this right now?

Oh, fuck, yeah, he is. Apparently he's feeling rather pent up, as well. Faster than I realize he's doing it, Jas has me on my back, lying half on top of me, hands and mouth everywhere. I am overwhelmed in the best possible way. It felt incredible earlier tonight when I stretched my body over his, but this, this is so much better. Feeling his weight, his strength, taking control is exciting, erotic, and not enough! His mouth is on his favorite spot behind my ear, his hand going under my hoodie and shirt. Finally, finally he finds my breast and not gently, but no too roughly, either, he pinches the nipple. Moaning is the only sound it is possible for me to make.

Emboldened by his actions, I wrap my arms around Jasper's neck and pull him closer and throw a leg over his hip. Contact! Definite proof that he is enjoying this as much as me. And I am indeed a lucky girl, because it feels as though my man is blessed. Moving his mouth back to mine, Jas continues his exploration of my body, traveling from nipple to waist, to ass. Those string-calloused fingers are magic. I can't help but run my hands down his back, feeling his muscles tense and release with his movements, feeling his breath coming in gasps. His ass is rock hard, and I love it. I may have to give it a name. And write it a poem. And bite it. Soon. His lips release mine, and he leans on his forearm, running his hand through my hair, allowing the other to rest on my hip. I cannot resist the urge to bite that fucking fabulous lip ring. I could seriously get off just from biting that damn thing. I might sing to it, someday. I can't sing, but I'll give it a fucking try; the lip ring deserves adoration.

"Bella, I do not want to fuckin' say this, believe me, but we are gonna have to cool this shit down."

What the fuck? "What the fuck?" Guess I'm saying exactly what I think right now.

"We can't do this tonight, baby." I can sincerely hear the pain that statement must cause him.

"Because I'm not eighteen yet? Don't worry about that, Jas. Age of consent is sixteen in Washington State. No laws will be broken," I inform him with relief.

"That's not it, Bella, though I do kinda feel like a perv when I think about you being seventeen. _That_, I can live with. But I am not gonna fuck you on a cold, rocky beach with your little brother, your big brother, a former rival, and about thirty other drunk motherfuckers right around the corner. Not gonna treat you that way, ok?"

"Jasper Whitlock, that is the kindest rejection of sexual gratification I have ever heard."

"I'm Southern, baby. Courtesy is built in," he says, with a lopsided grin.

"Ok. I get it. You're right. Bring that blanket and that bottle. We'll get warm another way."

A/N: Song is Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day, and I use it here in spite of Kate's irrational hate for Billie Joe Armstrong. He is magnificent, kid.

Thank you, aixa00, for the info on age of consent!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Writing part of this on vacation in sunny Florida. Sorry it has taken so long. Again!**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do have a tan in February.**

Snuggled up with Jas, wrapped in a blanket, drunk as fuck. Not a bad place to be. We have decided that we like each other based on the good things told to us about each other by third parties - Rose and Emmett - and on the absolute hurricane-riot of lust that we generate when our bodies connect in even the most innocent ways. These seem like perfectly reasonable reasons to hang out. That's what he said, _hang out_. I can live with that for now. But any other bitches trying to "hang out" with him better be prepared to be snatched bald headed. I'm selfish, and I don't share.

"How long have you been at the shop?" I ask him, playing with his fingers, fascinated by how talented his hands are: motorcycles, guitars, my body… focus, Bella.

"Since I got here. I left Texas just after I graduated from high school. I was almost nineteen and was ready to get out of there. I knew a guy who knew a guy through the bike shop I dealt with on my Harley. This job was waiting for me when I got here. Want to own a shop of my own someday, you know? I'm only twenty-one, though, so I guess I have time." If a smile can be quiet, that's what his is right now - a quiet smile.

"You don't want music to be your career?"

"Sure. What guy doesn't want to be a rock star? But I live in the real world, Bella. Fantasies are fun, but…" He shrugs his shoulders.

"Sometimes they come true," I tell him as I shake my head just a little. "Do you miss Texas?"

"I miss the heat. The cold is still kinda hard to handle, the constant rain takes a lot to get used to."

"I'm sure. But the Pacific Northwest has a lot to offer," I say rather suggestively. I still want to get in his pants.

Just as he seems about to say something else, he cocks his head to the side, listening intently. We can faintly hear the sounds of music and screaming, and it peaks our interest.

"That is not a normal sound," Jas slurs in my direction. "I think we need to find out what caused it." He stumbles into a standing position and pulls me up with him. We're both a little drunker than I thought. Since Jas has clearly laid down the law on my not getting laid, I agree to go check out the noise. Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around us, we make our way back up beach.

I am sincerely not prepared for the sight that greets us.

I think J is having trouble, too, because he asks me very quietly, "Did we drink the entire bottle?"

I don't blame him for wondering. How often do you turn a corner and see a small redheaded girl and a gorgeous blonde woman both playing guitar while two extremely tall and hugely muscled football players do the hula? Not often, I'm sure. Why Rose and Jake's new conquest decided to play "Mele Kalikimaka" is a mystery. But it obviously inspired Emmett and Jake to perform some interpretive dance. Ali is shrieking with laughter to the point where Mikey is blowing into her face like it's a candle to encourage the girl to breathe. A couple of the guys from the rez are taking enough pics on their cells to qualify this moment as a full fledged photo shoot. Tyler attempts to join in the fun, walks a few feet toward my gyrating brothers, and falls to his knees shaking with the hilarity of it all.

Where did they get the flowers for their hair? Why did they feel the need to do all of the hand movements with their shoes on their hands? Who brought weed and didn't share with us?

The girls finish the Christmas song with a flair deserving of a headlining spot on a stadium tour - I'm sure they're hearing fucking awesome feedback in their heads - and the guys end with a break dance pose-off. The applause is deafening. Everyone is laughing, screaming, hugging, wiping tears, just generally having the best time.

Then all hell breaks loose.

"What the FUCK?"

I hate her. I hate her, and I want to stab her in the eyeball with a seashell. I want to shave her head and cover it with honey and worms and stake her to the beach and watch the seagulls have lunch while landing on the seashell still stuck in her eye socket. I really hate her. But not as much as I hate the fucker she's leaning on as she gapes at Emmett and Jacob with her mouth wide open.

"Oh, my God, Paul, do you see this shit?"

Leaving Leah's side, Paul approaches Emmett with his hand extended, a smile on his lips, excitement on his face.

"Emmett! Fuck, man, I haven't seen you in forfuckingever! When did you -"

And that's when my big brother punched the fuck out of his former best friend.

"Get. The fuck. UP!" Emmett is imposing at the best of times. Emmett standing over you after having just punched you in the face hard enough to shatter bone and yelling at you to get up for more, well, that's just fucking scary. Even the hula flower in his hair did not make it any less frightening. Kinda made it worse, in my opinion. If I was Paul, I'd stay down. Just sayin'.

Yelling, shoving, pushing ensues. Sides are being formed. Paul's posse is surprisingly small seeing as how we're on his turf. Edward comes from out of nowhere to stand beside his brother. Mike is walking with huge distance devouring strides, eyes focused on nothing but Paul's face. Jake backs up a little toward me. It's clear by his expression that he has no real clue what this is all about, but he's obviously figured out it has something to do with me. Don't all tension-filled, disaster-like situations?

"Back up. Everybody! This is between me and Paul," Em says with deadly calm. And since this is Emmett Cullen, everyone's idol, the dude all these fuckers want to be, all the guys listen. "Get up," he growls, looking at my ex again.

"I'm not fighting you, man. What the hell?" He acts confused, but when Paul looks over at me, I know he knows exactly why he is gonna get his ass beat. And I smile.

"Bella. This is him?" Jasper's voice is thrumming with barely controlled fury. At this moment, he is more intimidating than Emmett. So. Fucking. Sexy.

"Yeah," I whisper as I look up into those eyes.

He nods once. Turning from me, he walks very calmly over to where Emmett stands staring Paul down. Jas steps between them, curls his hand around Paul's throat, and forces him back down to the ground. Leaning down to look him in the eyes, Jas speaks to him. He delivers his message so quietly that no one but he, Paul, and Emmett know the words he spoke. When he is finished, he releases Paul and stands up but does not step back. Paul scoots backward, away from Jas and Em, stands and leaves without even a backward glance. Leah, looking totally confused and fucking _pissed_, catches up to him just as he turns a corner, walking out of sight.

Just like that, it's over. For everyone but my little group that is. J's boys, who watched it all on their feet ready to step in and defend their leader if he needed them, sit back down and begin playing an upbeat song. The rez kids look at each other, shrug, and go back to drinking. Everybody else resumes their conversations.

My little brother, on the other hand, yells, "Will someone tell me what the hell just happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, Jake. Paul and I had an issue. J just had my back, that's all." God bless Emmett Cullen.

Jas steps back over to me and throws his arm around my shoulders. "Sorry, Jake. I hated that fuckin' kid on sight."

"Bella?"

"It's really nothing, Jake. Em just had something he had to handle," I tell him, hating to lie, but knowing telling the truth would make so many things worse.

"Ok, fine. Don't tell me," he replies with a knowing smirk. He's too smart by half. "Wait here, anyway. Dickhead reminded me of something when he walked through the parking lot." And with that, he walks toward his car. Almost immediately, he returns with a cake. A birthday cake. It appears to be on fire.

"Happy birthday!" That's loud; everyone here screams the greeting at me.

"Thank you! Wow! Jake, how many candles did you use?"

"I don't know. I kept losing count," he laughs. "I'm kinda wasted."

"I can see that. Cake for everyone!"

After the mad dash for sweet frosted goodness resulted in Ali's face being covered in frosting, Mikey being in trouble for throwing it at her, Emmett having eaten nearly half the cake, and Jake catching his shirt on fire trying to wrestle a piece out of Em's hand, most of us settled back down around the bonfire. Several of the kids from school decided to call it a night. Some camped down the beach, and some just gave up and went home.

"Y'all are staying the night, right?" Jas asks as we watch another group shiver their way up to the parking lot.

"Yeah. We have to even if we don't want to; nobody took on DD duties. We usually stay, anyway. Will you and the guys stay?"

"Jeremy said something earlier about cold air and vanishing body parts, so I'm guessin' they wanna leave. They're my ride."

"My GPS would get me to Port Angeles if you want a ride back tomorrow."

"If you're sure…"

"Just stay, Jasper."

"Ok. Thanks."

He leaned over to give me what I'm sure he planned to only be a quick peck. What we ended up doing drew wolf whistles. Pulling back, I licked my lips, wishing I could lick his, too. Jas goes to tell the guys he's staying. They come over to tell me goodbye, each hugging me and saying happy birthday. Jas does not like this, and they know it. I think that's why they did it. Boys.

We grab my sleeping bag and blanket. There's not a chance in hell that I'm sleeping anywhere but beside the fire, so we set up our space surrounded by my friends and family. Most of them anyway. Where the hell is Jake?

"Has anyone seen that giant brother of mine?"

"I'm right fucking here, Bella. How could you miss me?" Emmett looks genuinely puzzled. Well, _he's_ fucked up.

"Not you, dumbass, the other one."

"I'll go find him. Get warm," Jas tells me. He's so…. yeah. I think I just sighed. He walks around the bend, and I watch him go. I can't help it! His ass is so fine; I just want to squeeze it and take it on vacation. To a nude beach. He comes back almost immediately, alone, rubbing his face with both hands.

"What?" I ask when he gets back to me.

"Just be glad you texted him earlier. I did _not _need to see your little brother fuckin' that little girl. Oh, God, I'm goin' to hell just for witnessin' that."

I tried so hard not to laugh. He looked so traumatized. It was no good, though; I kind of vomited giggles first, then I full on laughed in his face, at his face. Poor guy, getting all caught up in my crazy.

"Jas, don't worry about it. I fully believe that if Jake didn't get caught it would mess up his mojo. I don't think he's ever gotten laid without one of us walking in on him. You will forget, given enough time. I have."

"You people are all insane."

"We know. C'mon. In the sleeping bag; it's cold, and I'm sleepy and drunk."

Snuggling down into the downy warmth of my deluxe sleeping bag, I find my happy place. Jas is behind me on his side, arm resting lazily around my waist. A girl could get used to this. I could, definitely. It takes me no time at all to sleep.

Staying asleep, well, not so easy. I have to pee! Right. Now. Unzipping the bag as quietly as possible, I sneak off into the trees. Thank God the sun has begun to rise. After that freezing cold tinkle, I make my way to the water's edge to rinse my hands. Bending down is not the best choice I'll make all day. Little hangover going on there.

Straightening up, I can't help but gaze in awe at the sight before me. Sunrise casting colors over the water. The sun rises in the east, of course, but the colors the sun shares with the water, the edge of my world, is for all to admire. Wrapped up in the sight, I'm a little startled when I feel rather than hear someone walk up behind me. Assuming it's Jasper, I turn around with a huge smile.

Then the smile falls.

Edward.

Always ruining the moment, here lately.

"I didn't know you were still here."

"Good morning to you, too, Bella."

"Whatever," I say, turning my back on him. I'd rather look at the water.

"I never left. I slept across the fire from you all night."

"I didn't notice."

"Yeah, I guess not," he says quietly, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Turning back around, I look up into those eyes I used to know so well.

I whisper, "This sucks, Ed. I don't want to fight."

"I know. I'm sorry. I hate this." He steps closer to me and tries to put his arms around me. I can't. I just can't.

Stepping back from him, I stop him with a shout. "No! We don't do that anymore. I can't keep trying to figure this out. Please, Edward. This whole mess is over. Go get Jess and go home now."

"What if I tell you I'm breaking up with her. Now. Today. Would that fix us? Can I fix this?" He looks so earnest. And so sad. But this time it doesn't work.

I sit down on the cold sand, my hair blowing all around my face, and realize that this is really where it ends. I'll leave a piece of me here, on the glowing edge of the world.

"No. No, Edward, it's too late," I tell him sadly. I can't look at him. It hurts too much.

"But, Bella," he begins, walking in front of me, where he'll make his last stand. "Bella, I thought this was what you wanted. What you've always wanted."

"I wanted the wrong things."

He looks at me in confusion, sadness, betrayal self-doubt, anger. Every emotion he has had twisting in my gut for so long now, I can see on his face. He walks away, not far, then back again. I'm listening to the crunch of the rocky sand, waiting. He isn't done after all.

"That guy, Bella? Is this because of that guy you JUST MET?"

"No, asshole. This is because of you, the guy I've known my WHOLE LIFE!" Shit, this is getting too loud. "Edward, we're gonna wake everyone up. Just let it go. We both knew this had to happen; I need it to happen. Maybe sometime later, in a few weeks, we can talk. I don't know. Let's just cool off, get used to this new way of being us. Friends, like we used to be. But for today, I can't do this. Bye, Ed," I tell him as I turn back in the direction of the warm fire and my hot man. Look at me, being mature. Cool.

Walking back toward our sleeping friends, I feel my arm being jerked back by the elbow, stopping me in my tracks.

"What the fuck? Get your fucking hands off me, you stupid bastard!"

"Bella, you are going to listen to me!" Edward has his hand on me. That's all I can think. He's restraining me, and that is not allowed. As I cock my arm back to punch the ass in the face, someone beats me to it.

"Get your fuckin' hands off of her! Don't you EVER put you hands on her!" Jas is yelling as he beats the hell out of Edward's beautiful face. The noise has alerted everyone else to the excitement, and Jake, Mike, and Emmett are at my side before I even hear them moving.

Em pulls Jas off of his brother, screaming, "What the fuck is going on here?"

"Ask that dumbass boy, Emmett. If I say anything else, it's gonna piss me off again." I can't stop myself from running to his side. Jake and Mike don't really know what to do. Stop me? Let me go? I check his hand for injuries. One knuckle has a little busted skin. He's fine. My badass.

"Edward? What the hell?" Poor Emmett. He's sleepy, hungover, confused, and pissed. Pretty sure he wants to kick the shit out of someone; he just isn't sure who.

"Bella and I were arguing, and this son of a bitch ran over and started hitting me!" Always someone else's fault.

"Tell it like it really was, damn it! You yanked my arm, Edward. He thought you were hurting me."

"Fuck that. This animal doesn't know me from shit, but you know I would never hurt her, Em. Bella, I'm sorry. I just wanted you to hear me out." As he says this, he walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. Big. Huge. Mistake.

Jas has his arms pulled behind his back, yanking them hard, before he's finished speaking.

"You EVER touch her again, motherfucker, I will end you. You hear me?"

"J, please let my asshole brother go." Jas looks at Em, nods, and releases Edward. That's when MY brother has his say.

Walking up to Ed, Jake stands close enough for their chests to touch and tells him, "J won't have to do a damn thing if you get near her again. _I_ will hurt you if you come near my sister again. Don't doubt me, Edward. I will make you bleed. Go get your bitch of a girlfriend and get the fuck off the reservation. Don't come back."

Edward looks mad and lost. He just cannot believe this. Golden boy is a bit tarnished right now.

"Emmett?"

"No. Not a fucking word," Em says with disgust. Will I never stop messing with his life?

"Ali?"

"I can't speak to you right now, Ed. Go home," Ali says with tears in her eyes. Mike pulls her into his side and walks away. We all do.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you to Jasper's Darlin's for rec'ing my little story. I am amazed! Thanks for all the reviews. They are like candy… and I like candy. They're not like meat, though. Nope. I gave that up for Lent.**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do own pink, fuzzy slippers that I'm gonna wear on PJ Day at school.**

Turning my back on Edward isn't as difficult an experience as I thought it would be. I have spent my life running toward him, only to stop when I've gotten close. Maybe I have always known, somewhere deep and hidden, that I was not meant for him - or he for me. I am very sure that Jas is not the reason I'm climbing into Em's Jeep and driving away from the boy who has owned me for so long, but I think he's making it easier. I don't know how; I just feel more at peace with him close to me. Ramped up and horny, sure, but calmer in my head, more certain of what I am feeling. And right now, I am feeling that I have taken a step in the right direction. It hurts, though. It really does.

"You ok?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I tell him. We both know I'm not fine, but he gives me this one, simply sitting in the backseat with me, a hand on my knee. I am really going to have to cut out this dramatic whiny-baby-weakling shit right now if I want to have a chance with this man. I don't think he has a very high bullshit tolerance. Em drives us back to the Cullen house so I can pick up my truck. I need to take Jas home, but I also really need a shower and fresh clothes. I stink just like the rest of these smelly, hungover bitches.

We get to the house and file quietly out of the Jeep. It's been a long, strange night. Everyone grabs a bag or box or whatever, just trying to get the hard part over with. As I help Ali drag her shit onto the porch, I make a decision.

"Jas. I'm going to go home for a bit to freshen up before we head to Port Angeles. You ok with that?"

"Yeah, sure. Am I going with you? Will there be anyone there who will mind?"

"My parents are probably home, and my brother Seth. Nervous?"

"Bella, I don't think I've ever gone home with a girl to meet her parents. I met you two days ago. It's a little nerve racking, yeah," he says, running his hands through his hair and rubbing his face.

"Dude, my parents are old stoners. They'll probably just want to make sure you have enough condoms." I can't help but laugh just a little at the look of horror on his face. "Just ask Em if you don't believe me."

"She's right, J. Renee and Charlie will be cool with you. Seth will fucking hate you, but he's only fourteen, so you should be safe," Em tells him with that sparkle in his eyes that promises an opportunity for amusement.

"Don't be scared. I'll protect you," I say, ushering him to my rusty chariot. He's struggling with carrying my bags and his, and he doesn't really notice the truck until he moves to pitch our stuff into the bed.

"Protect me from what? The fiery, screeching death that waits for me if I get into this thing?" He looks a little disturbed by the thought.

"Don't hate the truck, Jasper, she's a classic!" And for some reason, all the rest of my friends burst out into loud, obnoxious laughter. No respect for an antique.

Rolling my eyes, I mumble, "Shut up." I head over to Ali and kiss her goodbye, making sure that Mike is watching. He _loves _that shit. Sneaking a peak at Jas, I notice he likes it, too. Filing that away for later use. Turning back to Ali, I see her clever little mind has taken notice of the fact that we have now added a very powerful weapon to our collective arsenal. Those guys are so fucked. We are not above using our power for personal gain, or world domination, whichever comes first.

With a quick hug for Mike, and a promise from Rose that we'll keep in touch, I'm down to my last goodbye here. Em opens his arms, and I can't stop myself from running into them. They're leaving today, going back to school, and the Cullen family will be spending time together. I won't see him again this trip. Port Angeles is close, I know; we were there last night and I'm going again in a little while. But I miss having him here with us like this all the time. It's just not the same; he has his own life there. Never mind how geographically close he is - it's a world apart. He squeezes me tightly; I think he misses being here, too.

"I love you, Em."

"I love you, too, Bells."

There's nothing else to say, and I climb into my truck.

"Hey, Badass, you man enough to ride in my truck?"

Jasper looks at my truck then looks at Em who can only shake his head. Sighing heavily, Jas gets into the passenger seat and attempts to shut the door.

"Slam it like you mean it, Jas," I tell him, not really meaning for it to come out so dirty. Really. Promise.

"This really runs?" he asks incredulously.

"I told you, Jake is a great mechanic."

"I have a new respect for him, that's for sure. Drive on, Bella."

As my baby roars to life, I point the hood in the direction home and take Jas to meet the rest of my family.

"Mom! Dad! You here?" I yell as we walk in the door. Jas is putting on a cool, calm face. It's cute, how nervous he is. His eyes widen as he listens to the sounds of chair legs scraping in the kitchen, then great booming barks bouncing off the walls in some sort of freakish acoustic trick seemingly designed to scare the hell out of him. Fiona reaches us first.

"Fi! I missed you, baby! Did you miss me?" I smooch and stroke and ruffle and hug my dog shamelessly. There are few things in the world I love more than her. She is my giant red baby.

"Thank fuck, Bella!" Jas says whisper-yells. "I was ready to run for my life. I thought it was gonna be a pit bull or Doberman or some shit. She's beautiful."

"Jas, this is Fiona Scarlett Crimson Doggy-Swan. Fi, this is Jasper. Shake," I command, making introductions. Jas extends his hand and shakes with Fiona. Good boy.

"Well, that's quite a name," he laughs, scratching Fi behind the ears. That really is his go-to spot, isn't it.

"I wanted to name her some variation of red, but when my Mom suggested Fiona I changed my mind. I insisted she hyphenate her last name, though. I was a feminist at seven," I explain, laughing at myself.

"Bells, that dog whines like you're dead every time you leave for more than a few hours. Thank God you're back. I was about to lock her out."

"Seth, dear brother, you do know that I would sooner have you sleeping all night in her dog house than her," I tell him, smiling sweetly and meaning every word.

Jas, on the other hand, is staring at my baby brother with his eyes wider than I'd seen yet. Did I forget to mention to him that Seth, at fourteen, is six feet two? With a swimmer's tight, long, powerful build? Yeah, maybe. He stands to his full height all of a sudden as does Seth when he finally locks eyes on him. So much testosterone in my life.

"Who are _you_?" he asks none too politely. I sigh.

"Seth, this is Jas. He's a friend of Em's." That'll help. Like most other guys I know, Seth idolizes Emmett Cullen.

"So? Why's he here?" Fucking hell, this is fun. It's nice to be loved and to feel protected, but I've reached my quota for the weekend, thanks.

"He was at the bonfire, and I'm taking him home."

"Where?" Ok, I'm getting tired of this.

"Port Angeles, Seth. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Why can't Em take him home? He's leaving today, right? I didn't even get to see him this time, by the way. Let _him _take Jack back home." Passive aggressive kid. He's good at it, though.

"Seth, his name is not Jack, it's -"

"Seth, call me J. I'm hangin' out with your sister today. She's takin' me home so we can do some shit in P.A. Cool?"

"No."

"What?" He's frustrating isn't he, Jas?

"No, it's not cool. But she's going to do it anyway, so whatever. Can I come? I'm bored as hell, and Jake will be a tired, cranky butthead all day."

"Not this time, Seth," I tell him before Jas can say whatever his face was telling me would not help Seth's attitude.

"Psh. I can't wait to drive," he complains as he walks upstairs. "There's food in the kitchen. Mom and Dad are still asleep. You better let them know you made it home before you leave again."

"Thanks. See you later."

"Be careful," he calls down.

"I will." I turn to look at J who has a kind of _what next _look on his face.

"Any more brothers - blood, adopted, honorary, or imaginary - waiting to beat the shit of me?" I reach out and touch that eyebrow that he's arched so sexily.

"Nope. Seth's the last one." Is that relief I see on his face? I chuckle. "Come on. You can wait in my room while I get ready."

"Your parents are home, Bella."

"I know." He follows me to my room. I wouldn't say reluctantly. Maybe apprehensively is the right word. He doesn't get it yet. We. Are. Not. Normal. He'll learn. I toss the tv remote at him before I slip into my bathroom. Get comfy. I'll be quick."

I see him pull his boots off as he stretches out on my bed. Fuck me, I like seeing him there. I close the door and strip quickly before allowing myself to relax under the very hot spray of my shower. It helps warm my bones. I hadn't realized how cold I'd gotten last night. Washing my hair and shaving my legs as fast as I can, I think about that gorgeous guy in my bed. I can't believe I've known him for such a short time. There's just something about him. Hr feels right. I'm pretty sure he's feeling it, too, since he has, in fact, given two motherfuckers hands on evidence of what a badass he really is, all in defense of my honor, or some shit like that.

Cutting off the water and stepping out of the shower onto the bath rug, I realize I have forgotten clothes. Uh, oh. Fortunately, I keep my fuzzy purple robe on a hook in here. After toweling off my hair, I open the door expecting to see sexy, damn it. But, no. Where is he? Going through my bedroom door into the hall proves to be kind of dangerous. Fi is barreling past me down the hallway into Seth's room like he has a cat wrapped in bacon in there. What is she after?

I follow behind her and see the unexpected. There's my sexy. And it's sitting on my brother's floor with a game controller in it's hands. His hands, I mean.

"What the hell?"

"Hey, Bells. Wanna watch? We're playing HALO," Seth says happily.

"Huh?" I'm so eloquent.

"We're killin' shit, Babe." He said Babe. Jas called me Babe. He so fucking did. Be cool.

And what is up with Fiona? She is snuggled up against his leg, head resting on her paws, looking up at me as if to say _Can you blame me_? No, Fi, I can't. But you are the only bitch I'll share with.

"Cool. Uh, Jas, did you want to shower before we go? I'm going to check in with my parents."

"Yeah,. Thanks. I'll get my bag out of the truck. Seth, rain check?" Jas asks him, putting his controller down and standing up. I think Fi is mad at me now.

"Ok, sure. Hey, have you ever played…" I leave Seth's room as he continues to talk to Jas about whatever game he's talking about. Video games: performing instant male bonding since the 1980s. Knocking on Mom and Dad's door, I get a quick answer and run in, jumping onto the bed between them.

"Good morning, Isabella," Mom says.

"Hmph, ugh," says Dad.

"Good morning to you!" I kiss them both on the cheek. Dad tries valiantly to open his eyes and form words.

"Have a good time, Bells?"

"Yeah, it was not boring, that's for sure, Dad."

"Oh? Spill, Bella." My mother is a gossip junkie, but it's ok. I'm her supplier.

"Well, Em brought a girl home. At first she hated me, but now we're friends. Edward was an ass, and now _we're_ not friends. Paul showed up with Leah, and I hate them both. Jake and the guys got me a cake which they used to catch stuff on fire. And I met a guy. Jasper, but don't call him that. Call him J. He's in my shower getting defunked before I take him home. He lives in Port Angeles. That's about it." Whew. Not sure I took a breath. My father just stares. I mean, what can he say, really?

"Hmph. Are we meeting him this morning?"

"Next time, Charlie," my mother tells him. She is so not going to meet someone for the first time with bed head and crusty eyes. Not her style.

"Fine. Be careful, Bells. Call when you're on your way back."

"Ok. Love you both!"

"Love you, too!"

Stepping back into my room, I hear the water still running. Rifling through my dresser, trying to find something to wear that falls somewhere between not giving a shit and trying too hard, I don't notice the shower stop. I don't notice the bathroom door open. I don't notice Jas walk across the room. I DO notice him wrapping his arms around me from behind and nuzzling my neck through my still wet hair.

"You're so fuckin' sexy. Even standing here in this purple room in a furry bathrobe that makes you look like you're wearing a Muppet, you're gettin' me hard. We need to get out of here, Babe," he groans that last bit, grinding against me a little."

"I like that," I breathe, grinding back.

"What do you like?"

"I like you calling me Babe, and feeling your body close to me, and seeing your inked up arms wrapped tight around me. All that, I like all that." He hasn't even really tried anything yet, and I'm biting my lip and writhing against him. What is he _doing _to me? I lean back into him so he can keep doing it. I look up and catch my breath. I can see him in the mirror above the dresser in front of me, and he is breathtaking. Standing behind me in only a clean pair of jeans and that motherfucking lip ring, damp hair hanging in his face, he kisses my neck, open mouthed, tasting my skin. Jas looks up then, sees me looking at him, and bites. Oh. Fuck.

"I like all that, too." I can see the moment he loosens the hold on his control. I can feel it, too. He overloads my senses. He gives a low growl and traps me between himself and the dresser. Seemingly in all one movement, Jas reaches across my body to pull down one shoulder of my robe and attacks the exposed skin with his tongue; he works his other hand into the robe and palms my breast, massaging and pinching; he pushes his thigh between mine and grinds.

"Oh, God, Jas," I pant, trying to keep my breath. I want to keep watching, but letting my head fall back, I can't help but close my eyes and just _feel_. He feels so _good_. His hands are everywhere now, running down my ribs, my belly.

Suddenly, he backs up only enough to spin me around to face him and claims my mouth as his own. My hands go straight for his hair and pull. His left hand is bunched in my hair pulling my head back, his right hand pushing up the robe as he travels up my thigh to my ass. My leg responds and wraps around him, and he pushes me back against the dresser again. The sound of the dresser banging into the wall seems to bring him back to an awareness of our location.

"Bella, if we don't get dressed and leave right fuckin' now, I'm gonna fuck you while your parents and brother listen. Shit, Babe."

"Ok, Ok. Move. Go get dressed. In the bathroom. Go. Fuck, you're so hot, Badass." He kisses me once more then goes to dress. I give up looking for the perfect outfit, pulling out random stuff, and just thank my good luck that I hadn't put any underwear on yet - I'd have to change them. Damn. If he's that good before he's even touched my… I'll probably die by orgasm when he.. Fuck yeah, he's getting laid today.

He comes out of the bathroom wearing those fuck awesome jeans and some other stuff, too. I rush into the bathroom, throw my hair in clip, smear on some eyeliner, and I rush back out. Jas grabs his bag in one hand and my hand in the other and leads me to my truck.

"Can I drive this thing today?" He seems a little scared of the truck.

"Sure. Think you can handle it?" I tease.

"I'm not worried about handling the truck, Bella," he smirks. "You, on the other hand, are going to be the death of me."

"But you'll die smiling, Jasper," I breathe into his ear, bite his bottom lip, and give him the keys. Climbing in the passenger side, I notice it takes him a moment to catch up. Yeah, I did that.

He takes it easy on my truck at first, testing it out.

"I can't believe it drives as well as it does. Is Jake gonna be a mechanic when he leaves school?"

"He wants to play football, NFL, but Dad is trying to convince him to have a back up plan."

"Well, he'll never have any trouble getting a job workin' on cars if the NFL doesn't call. He's worked a miracle here."

"Don't hate the truck, Jas," I tell him, exasperated.

"I don't hate the truck, Babe. It's amazing, like you."

"Aw, you say the sweetest things." He grabs my hand, and I scoot closer to him.

We ride with only the radio for noise for a good while. So when he takes a sudden turn onto a well hidden road, I'm a little surprised.

"Where are we going?"

This is a little access road leading to a little pond, a fishing hole, really, surrounded by trees and completely private, Interested in taking a look?" He cuts his eyes sideways at me, a small lop-sided grin on his face.

"Oh, hell, yes."

"Thought so."

We get to the end of the road, which does indeed result in a lovely little pond surrounded by evergreens. I don't care. As soon as Jas shuts the engine off, we lunge for each other. In less than five seconds, I find my self on my back on the bench seat, Jasper's mouth on mine, his tongue probing, pushing. His hands positioning us, one on my ass, one on the door handle for stability. My hands pulling his shirt over his head. Must get him naked. All I can hear are his groans and my breath hissing through my nose; I'm trying so hard to gain enough air without breaking our kiss. It doesn't work, and I have to turn my head a little to get him to let my lips go.

"Jas, no stopping this time, baby."

"The only way this stops now, Bella, is if you tell me to." And just to drive home his point, he gives a little thrust that brings out a grunt of need from me.

With his shirt off, I can run my fingers over his strong chest, placing kisses over his collar bones. We're sitting up to make the removal of my long-sleeved t-shirt and bra easier. As Jas moves to take a breast into his mouth, the other in his hand, I reach down to undo the buttons of his jeans. Button fly jeans are a gift to horny girls like me. These are now my favorite jeans ever. I'm gonna frame them. But first I need to get them off of him.

"Take your pants off, Jas," I gasp, pushing him against the back of the seat. "Do you have something?" Please, oh please, let him have a condom.

"Yeah, I do, Don't worry. Thank fuck you wore a skirt. I almost couldn't drive thinking about that fuckin' skirt." He reaches under that skirt and pulls off my panties, pushing the skirt down after them. Releasing me for just a moment he removes jeans and boxer briefs, and frees the guest of honor of this party. Holy shit. A dick is not a pretty thing; they're not cute. Wrinkly, staring at you. This one, though, is damn fine. And I want it. And though there seems to be enough to go around, I want it all for myself.

"Nice," I tell him, taking the condom from him and rolling it on for him.

"Thanks," he smirks, as I settle on his lap, my legs straddling him. "You are pretty fuckin' amazing yourself." I'm kissing him again, attacking him with teeth and tongue, when he reaches between us and slips in a finger. Then another.

"Oh, Jas."

"Shit, Babe, you're so ready."

Raising up a little so he knows to move his hand, I position my self in just the right place. I take him in hand and pump once, twice, then guide him home. Lowering slowly, I feel us both exhale as I thread my finger through his hair.

"Fuck, Bella. So good." His hands find my ass again, squeezing, caressing.

"Oh, shit." I cannot form coherent thought. I can, however, move my body, and that I do. I set a steady pace, Jas helping me with his hands. He meets each stroke, raising his hips. This is not slow and easy, sweet and romantic. This is not making love, people. This is straight up fucking, and it feels so damn good.

Sooner than I'd like, but after a longer time than I thought we'd last, I feel the pressure building low in my belly. My breath coming in shorter gasps, my movements less controlled. Jas is in much the same situation. Recapturing my lips, he moves us, me on my back again, him above me. I wrap my legs around him, and he thrusts with desperation. The truck is rocking, he's sweating, and I'm gonna be sore tomorrow.

Looking me in the eyes, he pleads, "Come on, Bella. I'm almost there." Sweaty hair falling on his brow, he looks so good.

"Me, too. So close." He runs his arm under my back and lifts me just enough to increase the friction exactly where it's needed, and-

"Jas! Oh!" Yeah, that did it for me. Damn fireworks. All I can do is ride it out. I'm vaguely aware of Jasper groaning my name and calling on a deity.

After a minute or two spent tangled up in each other, catching our breath and regaining the ability to move, we separate and begin pulling ourselves together.

"That was amazing, Jas."

He kisses me and says, "Fucking hell, babe, that was worth being cock blocked for two days."

I can only laugh. "Yeah, I really made you work for it. Made you wait two whole days."

"Yeah, but it was a long two days, Bella." He removes the condom and tosses it out the window.

"Really?" I ask as I pass him a travel package of baby wipes.

"Where would you rather I put it? Your purse? And where did the baby wipes come from?"

"Be prepared, Jas. It's not just for Boy Scouts."

We laugh, kiss, dress, and head for Port Angeles. It's been a good day, so far.

**A/N: Nervous about this one….**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I feel… utter devastation. Our Jackson has left 100 Monkeys. And gotten his "girlfriend" preggers. My Jas will do neither of these things. Lost my inspiration for a while, but I've got it back. **

The ride to Port Angeles is spent listening to the radio in companionable silence, with the occasional comment about the music. We seem to like a lot of the same stuff, not all but a lot. After all of the super-charged, extremely heightened tension of the past couple of days, it's nice to know that we can be comfortable with each other. I like watching him drive my truck. I like sitting beside him. I like smelling him all over me. You know, I like _him_.

"So, what are your plans today?"

"Uh, well, I've got band practice this afternoon, then the boys and I usually end up at a bar to watch the Sunday night football games. I thought we might get a bite to eat before you have to go back, but if you wanted to hang around… ," Jas says, all in a rush.

"Relax. I'm not getting clingy, just making conversation." I can't help but smile ruefully to myself. Well, we _were_ comfortable.

"I'm sorry, Bella. It's just that the guys and me, we have a routine. It works." He looks over at me, a little worried, and kisses me quickly on my temple.

"It's cool, Jas. Really. I'm not really the hovering kind. I'm not going to all of a sudden turn into a needy stalker-girl, even if the sex was mind-blowingly amazing. That's not my style. As long as you don't treat me like I'm nothing but a booty call, it's all good."

"You're much more than that, Bella," he tells me, smiling again. He pulls into a gas station just inside the Port Angeles city limits.

"Why are we stopping here?"

"Gas is cheaper here than in Forks," he explains. He's smart enough to leave the "duh" I see on his face unsaid.

"You don't have to do that. I can get it on my way back."

"Bella, I'm just getting gas," he says, opening the truck door, shaking his head. "We'll get the gas, go to the shop to pick up my bike, get some food, see where the day goes from there. Let me just get the damn gas, all right?"

"Ok. Thanks." I'm not good at accepting help. Even at the pump, apparently. Finished filling the tank, Jas settles back into the truck. He looks a little shocked when I throw myself at him, kissing him hard on the lips.

"Thanks again," I tell him, wiping his lips with my thumb.

"You are very welcome, Babe. Can't wait to see what I get if I buy you something nice."

"Jasper, I promise, we'd both be happy." The sound of him sucking air in between his teeth was quite satisfying.

Not far from the gas station, we pull into an empty work bay at a small but very prosperous looking garage. It's a little messy, but what garage isn't? There are bikes everywhere. Jas cuts the engine just in time to hear his name.

"Whitlock! What the fuck did you just park in my garage? That damn thing is gonna drive away the paying customers!"

"Son of a bitch," I whisper. I'm pissed. Seriously, why no love for the truck? This thing is a rolling miracle. Unbelievable.

"Be nice, Babe," Jas laughs as he pulls me out his door. I notice he very obviously lays his arm across my shoulders. A clear message to the tall, tatted, biker-looking ass who hates my truck.

"Aw, hell, J. Who's your friend?" Ew. Stop looking at me like that.

"Peter, this is Bella. Bella, my boss, Peter." Shit. I _do_ have to be nice.

"Well, hello, hello, Bella," Peter says to me, leering. Jas tightens his hold on my shoulder and stands a little stiffer. I think I need to diffuse this really quickly. Jas has already proven his protective streak.

"Hi, Peter. Your shop, huh?" I look him straight in the eye and arch my brow ever so slightly, hoping that my intended message - _Hey, Asshole, do you see the very pissed off dude standing next to me? _- is getting through to him.

"Uh, yeah. That your piece of sh- , er, truck in there, cluttering up my place?" He says this laughing. I do not think he's funny. At least he's stopped licking his lip.

"Don't hate the truck," Jas says. What that does to me? You have no idea.

"Thanks, Jas." He looks down at me with a smirk, and I get on my tip toes to kiss him quickly. Right on the lips. Take that, Peter.

"Huh," grunts Peter, watching us with squinty eyes and confusion. "So, what's up?"

"Alright if I park the truck here for a while? We're gonna take the bike," Jas asks.

"Sure. I don't have anything coming in until late. You rehearsing tonight?"

"Yeah, we'll be here around four. Couple new songs to work on." Turning his eyes to me, he says, "Let me go get the bike and a helmet for you. Be right back."

Little uncomfortable being left with Peter, so I talk.

"They practice here?" I ask.

"They get a big space to make all kinds of unholy noise, and I get free admission to wherever they play. Win, win. Plus, he's my best mechanic. I like to keep him happy; he could work at any shop he wants."

"Cool." He's looking at me all sketchy again.

"Where did you come from, little Bella? You don't seem, well, his usual type."

"I'm an unusual girl."

"I bet you are, " Peter murmurs just as Jas rounds the corner, sitting astride and rolling a beautiful bike, a bright blue helmet resting on the seat.

"Ready, Babe?"

Peter's eyes widen and his brows rocket skyward as he blurts out, "Babe?"

"Problem, Pete?" Jas asks. His face is placid, his tone even, but there is definitely a challenge in his eyes.

"No problem, J. Just, uh, never mind." As I walk past him toward Jas, Peter says quietly, "See you later, Unusual Bella."

"Later, Sketchy Pete." He shakes his head and gives a deep, booming laugh. If he stops trying to eye fuck me, I think we could be friends.

Coming to a stop next to Jasper, I take the helmet he hands to me. He pulls my hair out of the way as I pull it down over my head. Our eyes never lose contact as I secure the strap.

"What are you looking at so intently, Whitlock?" I ask.

"You. Looking hot in that helmet, Swan."

"You look pretty fine on that bike."

"I bet you'll look better. Hop on." With that, he grabs my arm and helps me adjust my posture behind him. "You ever ride before?"

"Just a couple hours ago. Forgotten already?" I can't help it. He left the door wide open for that one.

"The death of me, Bella. Seriously." He takes a moment to chuckle and shake his head. "A bike. Ever ridden a bike before?"

I sigh and stop laughing. "Yes. Jake, Seth, and I have dirt bikes. There are some really great trails through La Push. We ride most clear weekends. If I'd known we were riding today, I'd have brought my helmet."

Silence.

"Jas?"

Silence.

"Jas, you all right?"

"I, I'm just, just picturing it. Really? That is so fuckin' cool. And you call _me_ badass? Shit, Bella."

I can't help but laugh at him. I do that a lot when I'm with him. Laugh. "Start the bike, Badass."

"Let's go, Babe."

He kicks the bike into life, and we head slowly away form the garage. As we pass him, I see Peter watching us with a bemused look on his face. He looks… pleased? Interesting. We roar down the street toward whatever destination Jas has in mind. I am loving the feel of the bike, the sound of the engine, the smell of the man in front of me. So many good things happening all at once. There are few things that compare to the freedom of riding a motorcycle. It must be close to what a bird feels, I think. The rush of wind, the lack of barriers between thought and movement. A little chilly, though. Fortunately, Port Angeles isn't exactly a major metropolitan city, so we reach the restaurant quickly. Helping me off the bike, Jas notices the goosebumps.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't think about grabbing you a jacket. You ok?"

"Fine, Jas. Really. Just a bit chilly. I'll warm up while we eat."

"Next time, I'll get one of my jackets for you." Next time? Yay!

"Next time, I'll bring my own helmet _and_ my own riding jacket."

"Leather?" he asks hopefully.

"Of course. Isn't yours?"

"Of course."

We both ponder leather jackets. It's a nice moment.

Once inside, I notice we're at a little Italian place. Nothing fancy; everyone's wearing jeans, there aren't any cliché red checked table cloths, but the food smells divine. It doesn't take long for a hostess to come seat us. Chick takes a little too long to avert her eyes from my man's ass. She looks somewhere else pretty quick after I turn toward her and stop, staring her down with my bitch face on. Jas walks back to me and runs his hand along the small of my back, edging me toward the table. Once we're seated next to each other, he drapes his arm across the back of my chair, leans in, and kisses my neck.

"What's that for?"

"For defending my honor from the hostess on the prowl," he whispers in my ear, bringing on a shudder. "Want me to stop?"

"No. But the waiter is a little uncomfortable."

Jas sighs as the waiter, a college kid from the looks of him, clears his throat. " Drinks?"

After we order our drinks and entrees, we fall into an easy conversation.

"How can you eat that, Jas? It looks gross."

"What? Mushroom ravioli? It's awesome."

"Mushrooms are slimy, ugh. Are you vegetarian?"

"No. I can definitely enjoy a good burger or steak. I _am_ from Texas, where beef and football are king. This is just really good. Are you a veggie? _You_ got an eggplant parm sub."

"Uh, no. I am carnivorous, for sure. This just sounded good."

"So. Senior year?"

"Yes. I'm already counting the days until it's over."

"You mean to tell me you aren't excited about football games, pep rallies, and prom? Surely you're not ready to hang up your pom poms, Bella. Wait, you ARE a cheerleader, right?"

He came really close to saying that with a straight face. We burst out into such loud laughter that the old people at the other end of the restaurant hear us and look up. It's cool, though. They smile. His laugh makes me smile, too, granny.

"Oh, Jasper, if that's what you want, you're having lunch with the wrong girl," I tell him, wiping tears out of my eyes.

"It's ok. I'll take your Chucks and leather jacket over a cheer uniform any day," he says, smiling at me.

"But you haven't seen my leather jacket, yet," I tell him coyly, looking up through my lashes.

"Oh, but I've been imagining it for an hour."

"Naughty," I scold.

"And you like it," he smirks.

"So true."

He clears his throat and starts talking again. "College?"

"That's the plan.," I sigh.

"Do you know where? You're damn smart; you must have options."

"How do you know I'm smart?"

"It's a good thing, Babe. Don't look embarrassed. I listen to you speak, I can tell you've got a brain. Where do you want to go?"

"UDub. Seattle. Dad wants me to go to UPA, but I think Port Angeles is too close to home. Em has managed to create a separate life here, but I somehow think my family would find a million excuses to come here. Weekly. Seattle, on the other hand, is far enough away to give me some space, but close enough to go home when I want."

"Why does your dad want you that close? Afraid to send his innocent little girl off to the big city?" He actually chuckles again at that.

"Jas, we all know I'm not innocent. He's actually thinking of the boys. And he's right. Jake and I are really close, Seth is still young enough to kind of miss me. Before you say anything," I say, holding my hand up, "I know he's fourteen. There are probably many things in his life I don't want to fucking know about. But, you know, we depend on each other being there. They both lost so much before they came to us." I look down at the table, thinking about how much I love my brothers and how much they love me.

"What do you want to study?"

"You'll laugh," I huff, looking back up.

"Never."

"Hmph. We'll see. Literature and Art History. Neither of which will ever get me any job other than teaching Literature or Art History."

"Not true."

"Tell my mom that. It's what I love, though."

"What about Ali? You two seem like the type to plan this kind of shit together."

"Well, of course, we want to be together, or at least close. But her passion is fashion, and that means New York or L.A. I can't ask her to give up who she wants to be. Besides, she's ready to be far away form _her _family. But, yeah, I'll miss her. I've looked into Berkeley and NYU, the only other schools I'd even consider, but they are both missing two very important factors, " I shrug.

"Seth and Jake."

"Yep."

"You're amazing. They're lucky to have you."

"No, I'm lucky."

"No, I think I am the lucky one."

"Well, you sure are _getting_ lucky," I smile.

"Yeah?" Now he's smiling.

"Oh, yeah."

After he pays the not-looking-at-him-because-she-knows-I-will-beat-her-ass hostess, we get back on the bike and make our way through the narrow streets of Port Angeles. Jas seems like he's in kind of a rush, not sure why. We pull up in front of an ordinary looking apartment building. After helping me off the bike again, removing my helmet, and kissing me quickly, he leads me up two flights of stairs and into a small, messy-but-not-dirty apartment.

"Sorry about the mess," he says bashfully.

I point to myself. "Brothers." It's all I need to say.

There are guitars, CDs, beer bottles, and articles of clothing strewn everywhere. One trash bag and one laundry basket would take care of seventy-five percent of the mess. Jas picks up an arm load of jeans and t-shirts, tells me to have a seat, and heads into another room.

"Want a beer?" he asks when he returns.

"No, I'm driving in a bit, remember?"

"Yeah. Guess I'm not really thinking about you leaving yet. Want a tour?"

"Definitely." The tour consists of the small, messy living room, a small, messy eat-in kitchen; a small, surprisingly tidy bathroom; and a small, clothes-strewn bedroom. We end the tour by the bed.

This time it's less animal. Less about the destination than the journey. Taking my hair down, he runs his fingers from my scalp down the length of the strands, watching it fall through his hands like sand. Then, rubbing my cheek bones with his thumbs, he bends to kiss me softly, slowly, tasting me, breathing me in. I sigh into his mouth, and he moves to my jaw, my neck, my shoulder. He pulls away only long enough to remove my shirt and bra. I push down the skirt and panties and stand unabashedly naked in front of him. He looks and breathes. Breathes and looks. His eyes, so wide, a look of hazy delight in them, move over me in an almost tangible way. I can _feel _him skim my body.

I reach for him, not breaking his gaze, and begin to remove his shirt. He gets the hint and removes his cloths, not hurrying, still looking. Both of us bare now, standing a breath apart. He kisses me again, lifting me up until my legs rap around him, easing my back to the bed, covering me with his body. I feel his skin on mine, see his muscles moving, hear his heightened breathing, smell his unique scent, taste his lips kissing my own. In such a short time, all of these sensations have become important, I crave them. I crave _him_.

"Jasper." I just need to say his name. What has he done to me?

He moves lower down my body taking a breast in his mouth, a hand roaming down my side to my hip, running down my thigh to my knee to my ankle. He's everywhere, as if he can't get enough either.

"Bella. So beautiful. I want you. Now."

"Yes, Jas."

He reaches into his bedside table, and rolls on the condom. Thank God he remembered to be responsible. I'm not sure I would have in time. Lowering himself back down to take my mouth again, he slowly enters me and sighs. I feel it, too, that relief, that feeling that this is where he belongs. He moves in a steady rhythm, like a bass line in a song, building to the melody of the guitar riff, ending with the crescendo of the drums. All the while, his hands continue to be everywhere at once, manipulating me like lyrics. It is simply the best I've ever had.

"Damn, Babe. That was… it was… The Best. Ever. Damn. Thank you. You ok?"

All I can do is smile at him. Who wouldn't?

**A/N: I want this story to move steadily, naturally. I want it to feel real - well, except for the fact that Bella will have an orgasm each and every time Jasper touches her, cuz he's just that good (only guys believe that shit). It isn't all drunken fights and hot truck-sex. (Though there may be more of both. ****J ) How am I doing?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Really feeling this Jasper right now, so here's another chapter a little sooner than expected. And leave Sketchy Pete some love. He's needy…**

Happy places. Usually they're in your mind, a place to which you retreat to escape your fucked up reality. I honestly can't think of a better reality than this moment, though. I don't need a mental happy place; I'm living in it right now.

"Jas?"

"Hmm?" He mumbles lazily, sleepily. I think I wore him out, poor baby.

"How many tattoos do you have?" I ask. I can see quite a few, especially the ones on his arms. He's lying across the bed with his head on my stomach, face turned to me, and his arms on either side of me, clutching me like a body pillow, bare-assed for the world to see. So I have a pretty good view. Yeah.

"Um, ten, maybe?"

"You don't know?"

"I was less than lucid for one or two of them, Babe. Do you like 'em?" Has any man ever smirked as well as he? Nope.

"Uh, yeah. So hard. Almost as much as the lip ring." His laughter has him bouncing and jostling on my tummy. I am in heavy lust with this guy's laugh. And seriously. Tattoos AND a lip ring? It's just not fair. So much sexy all in one place. I stroke his hair from his forehead as he looks up at me, running my fingers back and forth.

"Which one is your favorite?" Laughing. He's laughing at me.

"The one I wanted to lick the first time I saw it. Are you lost, Jasper?"

"Not as lost as I used to be. Still wanna lick it?"

"Soon. Stop being so bad," I admonish him, pulling his hair a little.

"You like the bad boys, Bella." The way his breath feels on my skin as he speaks, the slow circles his left hand is tracing on my side, the all together disarming glint in his eyes conspire to nearly rob me of my ability to think, much less speak, in this moment. I have to shake my head.

"Um, apparently, yeah, I do," I tell him, giving a little smirk of my own. I somehow don't think it's as effective as his.

"You don't want the superhero?"

"Heroes are overrated. All that perfect can be a bit much to handle."

Just as he starts kissing my belly button and murmuring about giving me something to handle, my cell phone rings. Hearing the chorus of "Firework" by Katy Perry, Jas lifts his head and looks at me with mild shock and a little bit of disappointment.

"Ali," I explain.

"Oh," he says with a look of relief. "Makes sense."

He rolls onto his back, killing me with those abs, as I hop up to find my phone. Locating the inconvenient device of convenience, I prepare for the cacophony of excitement that is Mary Alice Cullen.

"Hey."

"Where the hell are you? Seth said you drove away with, and I quote, 'Some dude who doesn't even play Call of Duty' hours and hours ago. Are you still out with Jas?"

"Yeah. I'm still in P.A. with him."

"Bella."

"Hm?"

"Do I smell sex and candy?"

"Maybe, Marcy Playground. Well, no candy." Jas cannot contain the violent burst of laughter this has ripped form him.

"Hi, Jas."

"Ali says hi," I say turning to face him and his… attributes, head on.

"Hello, O Tiny Powerful One," he yells.

"I like him," my best friend says.

"Me, too."

"When are you coming home? You do know we have school tomorrow. You can't stay. Are you at his place? Is it gross? Like, boy-gross? Did he at least feed you? Was it good? Jas, I mean, not the food."

"Ali, which question do you want me to answer?"

"You choose."

"I'm leaving in a little while; he has plans for tonight. Yes, he fed me. Not gross, just boy-messy. And yes. Fucking amazing."

"Amazing fucking," giggles Ali, saying just what I knew she would.

"Yep."

"Is he listening?"

"Yep."

"Does he know what we're talking about?"

"Yep. Smirking."

"I like him."

"Call you when I get home, Ali. Love you."

"Bye. Love you, too."

"That's so hot," he tells me when I hang up.

"What?"

"Talking about sex with your friend while I listen. 'Fucking amazing.' Nice."

"Amazing fucking," I can't help but giggle. Ali does that to me.

"Uh, huh. I saw you kissin' her last night and this morning. That is also hot. Are you two…," he trails off, wobbling his hands in the universal sign for _make of this statement what you will_.

"No, no. That is _all_ for Mikey's benefit. He loves that shit. It's his reward _and_ his torture. We talked about it once, just out of curiosity, but decided it was too gross to try. We are both very hetero," I tell him, scrunching my nose. Ew. Just, no.

"Me and Mike are grateful. For the hetero part. The curiosity part, well, if you wanna try, and let us judge the ew factor, just let us know," he says with a huge, huge grin. I wipe it off his face with a thrown pillow. My aim is perfect.

"Thanks, but no, smart ass. Hey, we gotta go; it's getting close to three. Get your fine ass up."

"Believe me, Babe, I've been up most of the day."

"Oh, hell. Put it in the stable, Cowboy. This girl is riding no more today; I'm gonna get saddle sores."

"Spoil sport," he grumbles. I'd be pissed if he wasn't smiling. "Do we have to go?"

"Yes. You have people expecting you and important, manly things to do. Let's go."

I shower quickly while he scrounges his clothes together. Good old Irish Spring soap. As he runs into the shower while I'm walking out, he stops and considers my hair.

"How is your hair dry, Babe?"

"All girls can do that trick, Jas. It's in the chick handbook, on the page after the diagram showing how to remove a bra while fully clothed. I didn't want to be on the back of that badass bike with a wet head."

"Ok_. I'm _the smart ass? Be right out." And he's true to his word. By the time I'm dressed, he's out and buttoning his jeans.

Walking up to me and throwing his arms around my hips, Jas whispers against my lips, "I'm so glad you convinced me to stay last night."

"It wasn't really that difficult to do, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I'm still happy it went down that way. Thanks for bringing me home," he says, punctuating his words with a kiss.

"You're welcome. Thanks for a wonderful day."

"Wonderful? What happened to fucking amazing?"

"Oh, Jas. You're such a guy," I tell him, giving him a quick kiss.

I walk into the living room and grab my purse. Jas walks around the room, collecting his wallet and phone.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Don't you need a guitar for tonight?"

"Nah. Jeremy will bring two or three. He's a Boy Scout, too."

We make our way back to the garage. I've had an amazing day; I have loved spending time with Jas. I hate to leave, but I'm ready to go home. Too much of a good thing, you know? I don't want us to OD on each other. We've experienced a LOT of, um, togetherness in the last couple of days. Plus, I'm fucking tired. But I can stand a few more minutes of holding onto him. I love motorcycles and the men who ride them. Well, at least I'm liking the one I'm with. Gripping him as tightly as I can without hindering his movements, careful of my skirt as we lean into the curves, I fleetingly wish I could remove my helmet so I can rest my head on his back. Yeah, loving the bike.

As we pull into the garage, I see more than one rather stunned pair of eyes tracking us from the picture window of what I assume is the office. Nobody makes a move toward us though. Jas again helps me off the bike, helps me remove the helmet. So chivalrous. Fluffs my hair and runs his fingers along the back of my neck. So flirty.

"Come in and say hi before you go?"

"Just real quick. I need to head out."

Jas takes my hand and leads me toward an office, where a couple of the guys are leaning in the doorway. I know that by holding my hand he's making a statement. Not to me; I don't need that from him, anyway. This message is for his friends. What that statement is, though, I can't quite figure out. Is it _Hands off, Fuckers_? Yeah, I think that's part of it, but they would listen to him if he just said so. Is it _This girl is mine_? There's a subtle difference there. Is it _This girl is different_? I guess, if I'm honest with myself, that one would be my pick. I feel different when I'm with him.

"Hey, guys. You remember Bella," he announces to the room. I am greeted with a chorus of quiet welcome. But there's always one…

"A little surprised to see you here, Bella," says Brian. Fuck you, Brian.

"Fuck you, Brian," says my man, reading my mind. I squeeze his hand a little in silent thanks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's just a little, um…,"

"Unusual? Hey, Bella."

"Hey, Sketch." Pete chuckles at that shit. Yeah, we could be friends.

"What the hell? How do you have a nickname for him already?" Jas looks down at me with true confusion and a little frustration.

"I guess you had to be there, J," John hoots, barely able to form the words because he's straining so hard to keep the laughter inside.

"I _was_ fuckin' there, and I still don't get it!"

"Hey, Badass, calm the hell down. It's ok." I look over at Sketchy Pete, and damn if he isn't staring at me. "Dude, what the fuck? Stop staring at me! That, Jas, that shit right there, is why he's Sketchy Pete. Sketch, damn, quit it."

"Calm down, Bella, God. I'm not 'staring' at you. I'm just contemplating a particularly puzzling conundrum."

"Huh?" rings the chorus from the troop of monkeys that is Southern Comfort.

"Peter, seriously, man. I don't really _want_ to fuck you up, but I will," Jas says menacingly.

"No disrespect to your girl, J. And Bella, stop quirking that weird ass eyebrow at me," Pete throws this comment my way with a grin on his sketchy face. Hell, he's kind of cute when he grins.

"What? My eyebrow? My eyebrow is fine," I growl at him. On second thought, I take it back; he's not really cute at all. "If you think mine is weird, you should see this girl I know who draws her brows on - seriously, like a fugly, surprised clown. Her seaweed green hair doesn't help. What's wrong with my eyebrow?"

"Nothing, Babe. Your brows are fine. Peter, what the hell?" Jas lets go of my hand and makes a move toward Peter. Um, Peter doesn't really like that.

"Hold on, J. I'm just messing with her. I like her; she's got spunk."

"It's ok, Jas. I think he's harmless." Well, maybe not harmless, but certainly scared of Jasper. I get closer to Jas and take his hand again, hoping to calm him down. It works - a little.

"Come on, let's go in. I want to see your rehearsal space, then I really have to go."

"Leaving so early, Bella? You just got here," says Larry, speaking for the first time.

"Yeah, it's been a long weekend. I'm tired." Best to be vague.

"You sure you don't want to hang around a while? Hear the new stuff?" This from Brian, trying to get back into my good graces.

"No, really. I'm not trying to be Yoko here. I'm sure I'll hear it soon enough."

All the guys laugh at the Yoko comment, but I think I detect a bit of relief. Nobody wants a new chick coming in and fucking with the band dynamic. I respect Jas's need to keep his routine with the guys. The results are pretty good, after all. Southern Comfort truly does put on a fantastic show. I'd like them even if I wasn't screwing their leader - just maybe not _quite_ as much. The practice space is a hidden studio tucked behind one of the service bays, toward the back of the building, reachable from the office, as well as a big garage bay door.

"Wow, Sketch. You're giving up a lot of space here. Very generous," I tell him, giving him the weird eyebrow again, just to fuck with his head.

"I told you, U.B., it's win-win."

"U.B.?" Jas just cannot let the nickname thing go. So cute.

"Unusual Bella." Jas gives Pete an incredulous look, shakes his head, and heads into a walk-in storage closet for minute after giving me the one-finger-raised signal for _wait here._

I take this opportunity to get some things straight. Flopping down on a really gross sofa against the wall, I ask Brian, "All right. What am I missing? You boys are all weirded out. Quick, he won't be gone long."

"No bullshit?"

"No, Brian, fucking lie to me. Yeah, no bullshit."

"You're the first girl he's brought here," says Brian.

"You're the first girl we've heard him call 'Babe,'" offers Jeremy.

"You're the first girl we've seen him hold hands with," John informs me in amazement.

"You're the first one he's spent the night with. On purpose, at least," Larry over shares.

"Bella, to be very blunt, you're the first girl that I know of that he's fucked then hung out with the next day since he moved here. The only one. You, hot stuff, are very unusual. You've created a new precedent. I'm trying to figure it out."

I sit there with my mouth wide open. I _am_ different. That makes me very happy.

"No girlfriends at all? Rose said he doesn't really do things that way, but, I, really?"

"He -"

"Jeremy! Hey, asshole, where are the cables for the blue amp? Shit is NEVER where I leave it!" Jas is so patient. And soft spoken, too. So hot when he's frustrated.

"Jas, I'm leaving," I shout. This brings him quickly around the door frame and to my side.

"Bella, see you soon. Don't be a stranger. We're playing again next weekend," Brian offers. I hug each boy much to my man's chagrin. Tough; I'm starting to think of these guys as friends.

"Sketch, it's been real," I say, giving him a little extra love. Dude earned it with his honesty.

"He likes you, Bella. He'll be worth a little effort," he whispers in my ear - the one opposite the side where Jas stands. That little aside is just for me and Pete.

"Thanks, Pete."

"J, you make sure you bring that girl back to see me!" Pete yells as Jas walks me back to my truck.

"Holy shit, Bella. You have a fan club, Babe. Sketchy Pete? That is epic. Any dude calls him that, they'll be on their hands and knees lookin' for their teeth," he says through not quite suppressed laughter.

"Yep, that's me. I am so entertaining. I bring the funny wherever I go," I say giggling. I have giggled more during this weekend than the three months preceding it.

"Did any of them get out of line? Peter seemed to make you uncomfortable, obviously," he asks, looking intently into my eyes, truly concerned.

"No, Jasper, I'm fine. Really. I think he just takes a little getting used to."

He wraps his hands around my waist and pushes me up against the side of my truck. Leaning down to whisper in my ears, he says, "You're calling me 'Jasper' you know."

"I know," I breathe. "Do you hate it? I can't help myself."

"As long as it's just you. And Rosalie. That's it. Make sure Ali knows. Just you."

"Ok." And with that, the talking stops. We've been together all day_, together _together twice, we slept in the same sleeping bag all night, but we still can't seem to get enough. I raise my hands to his face, framing his mouth with my thumbs, feeling his lips work me over, So strong. His hands pull me closer to his body as his body pushes me tighter to the truck. I am so not over that move. It's a good one.

"J! You're in public! Shit, man," Sketch yells. Is he looking after me?

"Your fan club is calling me off, Babe," Jas grumbles against my lips, confirming my suspicions.

"He's right, though. And I need to get going," I say, reluctantly untangling myself form his embrace.

"I'll text to set something up for next weekend. That ok?"

"Yeah, that's good."

With one more kiss, I climb into my truck. As I start the engine, Jas leans in to kiss me once again, and runs his lip - that motherfucking lip ring! - along my bottom lip. "To hold you over," he smirks. A lip ring drive by.

I haven't gotten more than a mile from the garage before my phone alerts me to a text. _I haven't forgotten sat. is yr birthday._

I think I smile all the way back to Forks.

**A/N: Getting to know each other. They needed to. **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I also do not own the ability to stick to even a self-imposed schedule.**

Finally arriving home for some much needed and long delayed sleep, I am greeted by nothing short of chaos. Dog, brothers, parents, and cell phone all conspiring against me; it's just not fair.

"Bella, you forgot to call us. Your mother and I have been a little worried. We know you're very tired…"

"Bella, that damn dog - sorry, Mom - has whined herself into exhaustion. Hers _and_ mine. Next time…"

"Bella, you didn't let Mom and Dad meet that guy before you left with him? He was cool and all, but still. I would have taken him…"

"Woof!"

"_Bella, it took you long enough to answer your phone! Are you home yet? You have to tell me…"_

"STOP!"

Even Fiona and Alice shut up. Sweet.

"I am too tired for all this, so listen up. Dad, I'm sorry. I just forgot. Seth, I cannot help what she does when I'm not here. Figure out how to occupy her. Jake, enough. They'll meet him soon, and I was perfectly safe. Fi, let's go to bed," I spewed out before my baby girl and I head up the stairs. I hear some sort of high-pitched screech and realize Ali is still on the phone. "Ali, I am going to tell you everything," I assure her, closing my bedroom door, "but right now I need to go the fuck to sleep. No amount of begging will keep me awake."

"_But Bel-"_

I don't think I have ever hung up on Alice before, but I just did it. And I don't feel even a little bit bad about it. I fall asleep snickering at the thought of what her face must look like, listening to Fiona's contented sigh, dreaming about calloused fingers.

It is very dark, like midnight dark, when I finally wake up. I can't believe they all left me alone. Someone must have let Fi out because she's not in here with me, but they let me sleep. Wishing I could just sleep through the night, I realize I have to pee and that my cell is dancing. Even as only an alert on a phone, Alice Cullen is all kinetic energy. Deciding that wetting the bed is just not worth it, I take care of that immediate need before calling my best friend. It's late, I know, but fuck it. Her inquisitive (ok, nosy) nature has probably not allowed her to rest at all anyway.

It rings one time.

"_Isabella Marie Swan! If you ever hang up on me again, I will come to your house, burn all your Chucks, paint your room pink, and give Fiona a laxative. You hear me?"_

"Yes, Mary Alice. I'm sorry. I was very, very tired. Worn out and a little sore, even, for some reason," I explain to her with a smirk.

"_Are you smirking?" _How does she know this shit?

"Yeah. I picked it up somewhere," I tell her, laughing.

"_I bet you did. Pick up any other pointers?"_

"Oh, Ali. I cannot even tell you. He's just amazing. Awe inspiring. And fuckhot. Best orgasms ever."

"_Orgasms? Plural?"_

"Yeah, did I forget to mention his stamina? And skill? Ali, you need to convince Mikey to take up the guitar. Rhythm, finger placement, all that shit is good."

"_So, was it all about being naked? Wouldn't blame you, I HAVE seen him, shit, but did you talk? Hang out?"_

"Yeah, we did. I learned a lot about him. He asked a lot about me, too. That was nice, and different. We'd already hooked up in the truck before we even left Forks, so he wasn't just trying to get into my pants. He really wanted to know about me. It was cool."

"_Before you left Forks? Really?"_

"Don't judge. You had Mikey in the garage at your house five minutes after he asked you to go out."

"_True," _she admitted, _"but I had been waiting for him for a while."_

"You're such a whore."

"_Learned it from you, you slut."_

"Ali, we are both so wrong. Anyway, he filled my truck with gas, took me out to a nice Italian lunch, we hung out with the band and Sketchy Pete for a little while before I left. His motorcycle is amaz-"

"_Who the fuck is Sketchy Pete?"_

"He has to be seen to be understood. Just wait."

"_Whatever. Do you still like him?"_

"Yeah. A lot. Too much, I think. But the guys told me I'm different. He calls me Babe. I like that, too."

"_I'm happy for you, Bella."_

"Thanks, Ali. Love you.

"_Love you, too. Tomorrow, details. All of them."_

We hang up, and I sleep until the alarm clock starts my day.

I make my way into the kitchen, bleary eyed and rumpled. My mother, God bless her, is having a domestic moment. She has cooked breakfast. Wonders never cease. If anyone cooks in the morning, it's almost always me. Usually, though, it's an every-man-for-himself-eat-it-if-you-can-beat-Jake-to-it kind of thing.

"What's up, Mom?"

"Oh, I thought you could use the morning off. It's just sausage, grits, and biscuits. Nothing fancy."

I can't help but laugh. "One vacation trip to the South, and you eat grits for life. Only you, Mom. We're probably the only non-transplanted family to eat this stuff in Washington State. Do they eat grits in Texas, do you think?"

"Yes, I'm sure they do. Why?"Just curious," I tell her, not really looking her in the eye. She so knows that is my tell. I can't play fucking poker, either.

"Bella?"

"Jasper's from Texas."

"Oh. Well, how did yesterday go? Did you two have a good time together?" See, that question would normally be sweet. Innocent, even, in other people's homes. _My_ mother asks this while wiggling her eyebrows. The strangest part is that it doesn't weird me out. Welcome to the Swan residence.

"Yes, we had a lovely time, thank you." And that's all I say. I do have my limits. Open lines of communication can turn into too much information pretty damn quick if you aren't careful.

"Will you be seeing him again?" My dad makes his first appearance of the day. It's a fair question. I'm so glad he doesn't hover, but he _is _a dad.

"I'm pretty sure. He said something about my birthday."

"Well, that's fine, as long as we get some time with you, too. And we get to meet him. Got it?"

"Got it. I'm surprised Jake didn't fill you in. Seth met him, too."

"Oh, we know. They liked him. Seth thinks he's cool. Jake says he's protective. But I got the feeling he thinks your Jasper is dangerous."

"What makes you think that, Mom?"

"Cuz that's what I told her when she asked," Jake says, sneaking up behind me, picking me up, and setting me down away from the food. Sucker. I already made my plate.

"Jake, he's not-"

"Bells. Come on. The tats. The crew. He backed Emmett down, from what I heard. He scared Paul away - like a _bitch_ - without even hitting him. He beat the fuck out of Edward - sorry, Mom - and Emmett just let him go. Your boy's got power. There has to be a reason for it."

"Jake," I say, slowing down his oral diarrhea with an eye roll.

"I liked the dude, Bells. Just be careful, is all."

"Bella, we meet him before the next date. Just to let him see my face. And my gun. Emmett? Edward? Crew? What happened this weekend?"

"Dad," asks Jake, "do you really want to know?"

'Go get ready for school," our Police Chief dad tells us both. "And wake Seth up!"

School sucks on the best of days. It's… school. But this morning, I am facing both Ali's abnormal-even-for-her excitement and Edward's completely inexcusable disapproval. Add to this the curiosity of the kids who had been at the bonfire and seen "Bella's new guy," and you have one very fucked up day.

"Wow, Ali. His face… Is he in pain?" I can't help but be concerned when I get a clear view of Edward's face.

"Yeah,' says Ben, walking up beside us in the parking lot. "That does not look comfortable."

"Ben," hisses Angela. "Insensitive. Is he ok, Ali?"

"It hurts, yeah, but my dad checked him out. Says he will look a lot better by next week. Jas did a job on him, but he didn't really damage anything. His pride, well, _that_ is busted _all_ the fuck up."

"I'm sorry," I tell her quietly, looking at my feet.

"Don't be. His pride needed a little bruising. MIKEY!"

Mike runs up, scooping her into his arms. He looks forward to seeing her as much as she does him. It's nice to see an attentive boyfriend. Strangely, I find myself thinking of Jasper and have to stop myself. It is way too soon to be thinking about him like that. Yeah, the boys and Sketch told me I'm different, but Jas has yet to declare. I knew he didn't do "boyfriend" before I started this thing with him. Best not to read too much into what other people tell me.

We watch as Jessica makes her way from Lauren's car to Edward's with great interest. She isn't bubbly and sickeningly sweet. She's not rushing to him with her arms wide open. She doesn't hang on him or kiss him in an incredibly graphic and public display of affection when she reaches him. She seems… hesitant. What happened?

"Ali?"

"I don't know, Bella," she says, looking at me wide-eyed and confused.

"I think he did it. He isn't touching her, see? He did it. He broke up with her!" Mike and Ed used to be closer. Maybe that explains his excitement; he's having a little bit of an Alice moment, there.

"Oh, hell, Ali. He said he would. He told me he'd break up with her, for me. He can't do this for me."

"Bella. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Not anymore. It's too late. I told him that!"

"Well, Bella," says Mike, looking me right in the eyes, "maybe he's not doing it for you. Maybe it's about him." Mikey is challenging me. Who'd have thought he had it in him? He has gained respect by leaps and bounds these last few days.

"I hope you're right, Michael."

"She called me Michael," he informs Ali, confused, in case she didn't hear.

"She must think you're terribly grown up," she responds, wide-eyed and impressed - so wide-eyed today. She kisses his cheek and he hums. They are so sweet it's a wonder I'm not in a sugar coma.

"Can we just go get the day started so it can be over sooner?" I ask as we head to the front doors of Forks High. Just as I begin musing about the possibility of NOT being the hottest topic of gossip today, what with Jess and Ed throwing out their we're-so-over vibe, my phone begins to vibrate.

_Just checking that you got home. Seemed kinda distracted when you left. Wonder why - J_

_Some dude was coming on to me but I managed to make it home in one piece- B_

And that was it. No declarations of missing me, no promise to talk later, no further request for contact. But it was enough.

As I had hoped, I am not THE number one topic for the day. I am, however, TIED for first. The Spartan student body simply cannot believe it's good fortune! Three members of Forks High Royalty (yeah, Jess qualifies. Cheerleader.) are surrounded by juicy, swirling bits of sexy facts and innuendo. And they're certain it's somehow all connected, though most can't decide if I made Edward break up with Jess for me, Jess broke up with Edward because of me, or - my favorite - Jess broke up with Edward for me. Jasper, almost universally, is seen as a pawn in the game of jealousy. I swear, if I hear one more girl make the comment that she would gladly cheer him up when I dump him, I will rip off her ponytail and glue it to her face like a beard.

"Bella!" Who the hell is calling me now? Between every damn class some chick who thinks she's brave instead of stupid comes up to me to "get the truth because I don't listen to gossip." A scowl usually sends them scurrying; the dumber ones wait until I make it clear that I will cut a bitch. Realizing who has my attention at the moment, I prepare to actually fight as she reaches me where I stand by my locker..

"Lauren. What?"

'Did you make him do it? Is this your fault? Why?"

Shit. I'm going to make her say it. So far it's been all rumor from people who aren't exactly part of the inner circle, so to speak. "Narrow down the rant, Lauren. What and who are you shrieking about?"

"Jessica and Edward. How did you finally get him to break it off for good? He really means it this time."

"Why do you think it was me? You definitely noticed I have a new-"

"Oh, cut the shit, Bella. It's about you. It's always about you! She always knew he'd leave her and run to YOU!"

"Dial it down, Lauren. You're yelling at me in the hallway. For your and Jessica's peace of mind, I will tell you once - and only once - that this break up is not for my benefit. I didn't _tell_ him to do it, I didn't _ask _him to do it, and he isn't running to me. We are not together, and we aren't going to be. Edward is not mine. I guess he just isn't hers anymore, either. Not my fault. Now, fuck off."

"You're such a bitch," Lauren sneered at me. The sneer turned to fear as she noticed a small, snarky, pissed off girl stepping up next to me.

"Should I make her cry for you, Bella?" asks my best little buddy while staring up at Lauren with the creepiest fucking grin I have ever seen. She is so awesome.

"No, not right now, Ali. You can chase her away, though," I say while flashing my own maniacal version of a smile.

"Sounds fun. Lauren. Run."

Lauren looked as though she just wasn't sure if she should take Alice seriously. Then Ali feinted toward her, and Lauren ran, screaming, like she was in a dark alley and Alice was a seven foot tall shadowy figure.

"Should I actually run after her?"

I simply couldn't answer through my laughter.

We were still stuck in those silent, oxygen-robbing shrieks, struggling for air, clutching each other to stay upright, when Mike finds us.

"What the hell? Does this have something to do with Lauren knocking people down in the parking lot to get to her car? She left so fast, she forgot Tyler. You guys do that? Wait. Never mind. I really don't think I want to know."

"Good call, Mikey," I gasp.

He pulls Ali onto his back and grabs my hand, leading us out of the school. My phone vibrates just as we reach the door.

_You out for the day yet? - J_

_On my way out the door - B_

_Good. Look up. - J_

And there he is, looking completely lickable leaning on that bike. He straightens up and makes his way to me, swaggering up the steps, totally fucking aware that all eyes are on him. Such a performer.

"Hi, Babe."

"Hey, Badass. Miss me?"

"Yeah, actually. Weird, huh?" That slow smile makes me want to grind myself into him, audience be damned. Bunch of voyeuristic motherfuckers. Why are they here anyway?

"Got a plan?"

"Not really. Hi, Ali, Mike," he greets them, a hug for Ali, a handshake for Mike. "You have any ideas, Babe?"

"Up for a ride?"

"Oh, definitely."

He grabs my hand, walks me to the bike, gives me a helmet, and off we go. I suppose I'll have to talk to him about just showing up. We'll have to discuss what's really going on here between us. I'll have to decide what I want and what I'll settle for. But for right now, holding on to him tightly, smelling his personal scent of motor oil, soap, and man is enough.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me, even though I usually take way too long to update. I don't own Twilight, so there's my punishment, right? And, hey, this is the second update in less than a week! Wooo! On a roll!**

When Jas cuts the engine and pulls off his helmet, I realize we've found our way back to the pond. He didn't come all this way in the middle of the afternoon on a Monday just to _fuck, _did he? Damn. If he _did, _am I gonna say _no_? I really don't know. How sad is that, that he's so sexy I can't control myself?

"Bella? You there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I stutter, reaching to take off my helmet.

He doesn't let me. After removing the protective yet restricting barrier, he leans in to kiss me stupid. He does a really good job.

"Bella? You gone again?" Chuckling. I made him chuckle.

"No, I'm here. The pond?"

"I don't know that many places in Forks that are quiet, Here and the rez. I wasn't sure where you'd want to go, who you'd want to see us. The bike and everything…," he rambles so earnestly.

"Jas, baby, it's ok. Why do you think I wouldn't want people to see us? ALL of my friends and enemies know I'm with you. My brothers. You know I told my parents. I'm not ashamed of you. If anything… well," I stop talking looking down at my fingers.

Pushing my face up gently with a finger under my chin - such a cinematic move - Jas looks me in the eye to say, "Bella, you better not be thinkin' I'm worried about us bein' seen together. That pisses me off a little, honestly." Um, not really what I expected.

"What? My insecurities piss you off?" A bit puzzling, that.

"Well, yeah. I did not pick you up in front of your school because I don't want to be seen with you. I'm just not sure where we are with this. I want you to be able to call the shot here, Babe."

The smile on my face hurts, it's so wide.

"So the pond?"

"A private place where we can talk. Wait. You thought…." I can see the light bulb. "No, Bella. I also did not ride to Forks to get laid. Today." Smirks so good. "I actually had business in town. Delivering a part the local guy needed in a hurry. I couldn't be so close and not see you."

"Nice. And it's not that I think you're, well, reluctant to be seen with me. I guess I don't know where you stand, either. We screw like monkeys, then a couple of texts, then you show up and sweep me off my feet - with no warning. We need, humph., well, no labels, just some … guidelines? I could use a list to go by."

"No labels, that's good. Labels are so limiting, like 'inmate,'" he laughs.

"Jasper!" I slap him lightly on the shoulder while stealthily feeling up his muscles.

"Ok, ok. Let's see," he begins, finally helping me off the bike. We sit down on the rocks beside the clear water. "We're gonna give this a chance?"

"Yes."

"Then, nobody else. No dates, no sex. Because I would have to kill a motherfucker. Deal?"

"Oh, hell, yes. Goes both ways. I can't be with you if you're sharing what's mine."

"Yours?" He smiles down at me. No smirk, just a smile. I think I might like the smile even better.

"Mine," I say as I wrap both arms around his neck and attack his mouth with a fierceness that is just a little embarrassing. He doesn't seem to mind.

A few minutes later, when I am able to remove myself from his arms, we resume the conversation. Where were we?

"Jas, no sharing. Right. But I have guy friends. I'm not giving them up for any, um, guy. Em, Mike, Ben, some of the boys on the rez, even Tyler. Can your jealous ass handle that?"

"Yes, Babe. I am a grown up. I can handle guy friends. Edward, though. Where does that stand?" He looks truly concerned. I wish I could set his mind completely at ease.

"It doesn't stand anywhere. He won't speak to me. I have nothing else to say to him. He was my friend before all of this; the only person I've ever been closer to is Ali. But that is pretty much gone now. Don't worry about Ed. Anyone I need to scare off?"

"Nope."

"That's short and sweet," I giggle.

"It's just the truth. I'm not a virgin, Babe, but there's no one important."

"Good. Thanks for being so honest."

"I don't lie, Bella. I can't stand it. Even when I should lie, I just can't. I've never lied to get myself out of trouble, never lied to a girl. You will always know the truth, even if it's ugly. I expect the same. All right?"

"Yes, Jasper. Always the truth," I promise him. "and the truth is, I am so fucking glad Emmett took us to that show."

"Me, too. So, unless you _want_ me to throw your ass down and get you naked on these cold, wet rocks, you need to decide where we're goin' next."

"Feel up to meeting the parents?"

"Sure. Hell, why not?"

Once we pull up in front of my house, however, his bravery is a little less apparent.

"Your dad keep his guns in the house?" he asks, eyeballing the cruiser parked in the drive.

"Yes, but he's not really supposed to fire his weapon off duty," I joke. Jas does not think I'm funny. Go figure.

"Why is he home so early?" he grumbles, getting off the bike.

"He's the Chief, Jas. And this is Forks. Only so much crime to fight. Besides, it's after five; we were at the pond for a while. Is my shirt on straight?"

"Yes, Bella. Don't say shit like that where your cop dad, or your giant brothers, or your _mom,_ for God's sake, can hear it! I thought you liked me? Hard to hang out with me if I'm dead!" he whisper-yelled. So adorable when he's afraid for his life.

"Isabella? Is that you on the back of that Harley?"

"Holy shit. Is that your mom?"

"Yeah," I groan, taking off the helmet for the last time today. My hair looks like a disaster in a thread factory.

"She's hot. I see where you get it, _Isabella_," he snickers.

"Call me that again, and I'll tell her you think she's hot," I smirk at him. How do you like that, fucker.

"Fine, shit. No more Isa-, um, name calling."

I hop down, put my helmet on the seat, and grab his hand. My mom is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. She hated, hated, hated Paul, his being a controlling asshole and all. She never really understood Riley, his being a cute but nerdy, overly polite kid. This guy? Yeah, this guy she gets.

"Oh my God, Bella, he's gorgeous! You must be J. I'm Renee, Isabella's mother," she coos, extending her hand.

Jas takes her hand and gives it a shake, looking at her in disbelief, What was he expecting?

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Swan," he says, only a little nervously.

"Renee, please. Mrs. Swan makes me feel old, and I'm fighting that feeling tooth and nail. Come in, come in. Staying for dinner?"

"Um, I don't, well," he stutters, looking to me for help.

"Yes, Mom, he's staying. What's for dinner?"

"What were you planning on cooking?" she asks sweetly. Damn.

"Well, Jas likes Italian. Tortellini Carbonara?"

"You're making Carbonara?" Jake comes careening around the corner to the front hall. "Oh, hey, J. S'up, dude?"

"Not much, man. I think I'm staying for dinner. Cool?"

"Sure, sure. As long as she's making Carbonara, you can stay all week."

"Carbonara?" Seth runs into Jake, Fiona hot on his heels. "Hey, she's not barking! Hey, J. What? Are you the Dog Whisperer?"

"Nah. She just likes me," he says, bending to scratch her behind the ears. Man knows his way around some ears.

"All of you need to get out of the way, and let the boy into the living room. Where I can meet him. Now," says my dad, in his I'm-Charlie-the-cop voice. This'll be fun.

Jas mans up and walks right into the living room, following the sound of Dad's voice. Seth and Jake are really helping the situation by humming a funeral dirge. One look over his shoulder, and Jas convinces them that this is not a good plan on their part.

"Chief Swan, nice to meet you. I'm Jasper Whitlock." I'm proud as he extends his hand; it's not shaking. He did well - respectful, but not ass-kissing.

Dad stands up from his La-Z-Boy and shakes his hand. He hasn't made his mind up about Jas, but he would never leave a man hanging like that. Dad motions Jas to the couch and takes his seat in his favorite chair. I sit next to Jasper, take his hand in mine, and wait for the interrogation to begin.

"Well, Jasper. How long have you known my daughter?"

"Since Friday night, Chief."

"How exactly did that come about?"

"Emmett Cullen is a friend, my best friend, you could say. I play in a band. Emmett brought Bella and a bunch of others to a gig in Port Angeles. We met there."

"In a bar?" Dad thinks he's menacing when he quirks his eyebrow like that. I guess he is to people who haven't seen him singing the "Farewell" song from _The Sound of Music _at bedtime. To his teenagers. Last week.

"Well, more like a club. We play there pretty often. It's not far from the UPA campus." Jasper never stops looking him in the eye. Brownie points.

"That's a lot of ink for such a young man. How old are you, Jasper?"

"Twenty-one, Chief."

"And the ink?"

"I'm not sure what you want to know," Jas says a little quieter than before, squeezing my hand a bit. Now we've gotten to the part he was worried about, I realize. Dad knows that some of these are prison tats. I should have seen this coming. It's just that that part of his life is a non-issue for me. Jasper is so brave, facing my dad like this without complaining to me at all.

"I think you do. I think you know I'd like to know where you got them, son." Dad's voice never wavers, his eyes never leaves Jasper's, but his intense determination is perfectly clear.

"Dad, I -"

"Bella, why don't you go start dinner. Jasper and I have some talking to do."

"No, I want to stay in here with you two."

"Bella. It's ok, Babe. Your dad and I need to talk. Really, it's ok. Go make that fancy pasta your brother's are drooling for."

"I don't want to, but all right. Dad, just listen to him. No judgment."

"Bella, you know me better than that, don't you?" my Daddy asks me. He's always Daddy to me when I have hurt his feelings.

"Yes, Daddy, I do. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Bells. Go make dinner."

"Be nice! Both of you!" I yell out behind me as I go to the kitchen where I know my mother will be waiting.

"Isabella, I'm lost. What just happened?"

"Eavesdropping, Mom?"

"Of course. What's going on. What didn't you tell us?"

"Jasperwasinjail."

"WHAT?"

"Mom, keep your voice down, Damn. Jas did a year for stealing cars, It wasn't murder or rape. That's why he's here, in Washington. He's putting his past behind him. He had it rough as a kid."

"Bella. Why didn't you warn your dad?"

"I didn't know he was coming here today. He just surprised me."

"Romantic."

"Yep. He's a good guy, Mom. Emmett thinks a lot of him, and you know how Em generally thinks most people are assholes."

"I know, Bella. We aren't that strict with you, though maybe we should be. I honestly don't think we'd know how. Let's see what your dad says after this talk. We'll go from there." she shakes her head. "You sure can pick 'em, girl."

"What do you mean?" I ask, a little unsure.

"Paul was a piece of work. Your dad wanted to throw him out on his ass the first time he showed up here."

"Really?" News to me.

"Yes. But he was Emmett's friend, too," she says raising her eyebrows at me. What is it with my family and eyebrows?

"Don't hold that against Jasper, please."

"I won't. But Paul, he was just off. And he wasn't very good to you, too jealous. Your dad will not let another one slip past him. He'll be fair, Bella, but he needs to feel like he's looked out for you. Understand?"

"Yes. I guess I do. But I really like him, Mom."

"He likes you, too. Otherwise, he would _not_ be in there with your Dad the Cop. Give them both the chance to work it out."

Since they are both being too quiet to eavesdrop from a safe distance, Mom and I make dinner. The tortellini is out of the water, and I'm just adding the parsley to the cream, parmesan, and bacon sauce when I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist.

"What the hell?" I look up, wielding my large spoon like a weapon in case I come face to face with a random giant brother, and notice that apart from myself and the owner of the arms, the kitchen is empty.

"Chill, Babe. 'Death By Spoon' would be a pussy way to go out," Jas says laughing and squeezing me to him. "And you just know that Brian would insist it be carved on my headstone."

"Hate that word, Jasper. Just FYI. What are you doing in here? You know, alive."

"Are you uninviting me to dinner?" he asks, grinning.

"No, I just, huh?" Regular wordsmith, me.

"It's all right, Bella. The Chief and I had a long talk. He's gonna give me a chance," he tells me as he turns me around in his arms. Yay for me, because now I get to look into his eyes.

"How'd you get him to do that?" I ask in amazement.

We hear a throat clearing, gruffly. Can a person clear their throat gruffly? My dad can. It's a talent.

"He was honest. I respect that, Bells. Remember that."

"I will, Dad. Thanks,' I tell him, meaning it deeply.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm hungry."

"Go get the boys," I say, laughing at him. "It's ready."

Dad leaves the kitchen and stomps up the stairs, yelling, "Jacob! Seth! Get down here and help your mother and me embarrass the hell out of your sister! Diaper stories! Training bra stories! Stories of boyfriends past!" Each declaration is accompanied by a bark from my dog, a cheer from my brothers, and a giggle from my mother. Traitors.

"Babe?' Jasper can barely squeak out that endearment, he's laughing so hard.

"Welcome to the House of Swan. Leave all sanity at the door."

**A/N: Thanks to those who have been reccing this fic. It means a lot to see not only my regulars (you guys fuckin' rock, by the way) but some new names as well! And those of you who review every chapter? You're my favorites.**

**And… you must read FANGIRL by MaverickWrit. Very funny and a little too true…**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Don't own Twilight, but I do own a birth certificate that lies like a lying liar. I am NOT 40, I am NOT 40, I am NOT 40! Oh, and I hope you had a Happy Easter.**

Curled up with Jas on my bed upstairs, completely oblivious to my family moving around down in the living room, I am very comfortable. Maybe comfortable isn't the right word; hot, bothered, and horny might be better choices. Jasper, however, is feeling a little… reluctant to get his fine ass naked. He is less oblivious to my family. He is, in fact, too fucking aware of every step, sigh, and sound made by them. Especially any and every noise generated by Charlie Swan, Police-Chief-slash-Father-of-the-teenage-girl-trying-her-best-to-get-laid. Shit. Dad ruined him.

"Jas, it's all right. It's not like he's going to come banging on the door," I huff, pulling his shirt over his head. "He grilled you enough over dinner. Besides, they have no illusions concerning my relative innocence," I tell him, red faced and frustrated. "Now take your pants off." I may or may not be straddling his hips, licking his collar bones, running my hand down his chest, playing with his God-help-me-button-fly.

"Bella. Please. He's right downstairs! I can't, not here. Shit. Stop doing that. Fuck, that's good, Babe. Let me… No. No, Bella. He'll cut my balls off, then what will we do?"

"Fine. But just know that you were about to get the most amazing blow job, Cowboy," I tease, ceasing my efforts to strip the perfection that is Jasper Whitlock. I content myself with tracing the lines of a tattoo on his ribs.

"You, Isabella, are an evil, evil woman for telling me that. I'd call you a cock tease if I didn't absolutely know you'd make good on that promise if I let you. Fuuuuck," he finishes with a groan. I might be grinding, just a teeny bit.

"Your loss, Jas."

"I totally believe you. So… did you really flash Charlie your first training bra?" he asks, changing the subject to something infinitely more mortifying to me than a thwarted attempt to get in his pants.

"Well, yeah. If he hadn't been teasing me so mercilessly, I wouldn't have had to burn his memory with that image. His fault, not mine."

"Oh, my God, Bella. Only you. I truly believe that," he says, shaking his head and snickering.

"Hmph. You know, he never again teased me about any girly shit. He warned the boys, too, so they know there is a very definite line they never want to cross. Stop talking now. I'm horny and you're mean."

Jasper lets out a defeated sigh.

"Amazing blow job, huh?" he smiles up at me.

"Yep. Ali and I used to practice on cucumbers."

He laughs so hard his whole body shakes. Feels good.

"What? We were pissed that Jessica thought she was better at something than we were. Not fucking happening. It was tough to learn, though. Gagged a lot, but we got it. Mikey's had both Jess and Ali, and he told Ben there was no contest. Ali still hates to swallow, though."

That might have been too much information. Jasper can't breathe and is turning colors.

"Stop! Stop! No more!' he gasps, having some sort of mirth-spasm beneath me. Feels good.

"Breathe, Jasper. It's not that funny," I grumble, moving off of him, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"Oh, Babe, it really, really is," he giggles, sitting up, pulling his shirt back on. "Please don't tell any of the boys that. Ever."

"Laugh it up, Jasper, but one day you'll thank those cucumbers," I promise.

"Can't wait," he says, leaning to kiss me.

"Ok, no nookie. Got it. Let's make our list, then," I decide, reaching into my bedside table for my stationery. NOT the cream with black; that paper already has too many lists entrusted to its lines. Light blue with green vine designs. Good. Represents his eyes.

"_What_ is the paper for?" He hasn't gotten it yet. So unprepared for my crazy.

"Jas, I know it will come as a shock, but I am really not normal."

"Yeaaaahhh," he allows.

"I make lists, all right? For, like, everything. Every. Thing. All the time. This one is our list. Our do's and don't's."

"Do we really need a written list, Bella?" Oh, I see. He's confused.

"Yep. I do. I just do. Besides, it will eliminate any chance of a misunderstanding. I truly detest a comedy of errors type of drama, like some played out Thursday night sitcom without the laugh track," I explain. Makes perfect sense to me.

"Ok. List away."

"We've established no dates, no sex, with anyone but each other, but that friends of the opposite sex are fine."

"Check," he says, trying valiantly to take me seriously.

"All truth, all the time. Right?"

"Right."

"No labels."

"Correct."

"You said you still get fucked up sometimes. What does that mean? I mean, I'm not opposed to some good weed and a mellow afternoon, but I don't go in for the hard stuff. Ali, Ed, Em, and I dropped acid once together, but no. Not for me. I _am _the Chief's kid, you know."

"I drink. A lot at times, Babe, but it's not all the time But I don't drive when I do. Not ever. Weed, of course. Nice to know you partake, by the way. There was a time when the hard stuff was part of every day for me, but not anymore. Not since I left Texas."

"Not at all?"

"No. There's been a time or two after a gig. A little coke. That bother you?"

"I kinda have to say it does. So, ground rules. Not around me. Not often. Not here. You can't be holding when you come into the Chief's house. Deal?'

"Yes. I won't promise never, but I won't seek it out, Bella. I agree to your terms, ma'am."

"Ok. What else?"

"We need more?"

"Well, most girls get pissed if they don't hear from a guy every fucking minute of the day. That is so not me."

"That's good to hear," he deadpans.

"I don't want to go like a week without touching base either, though. I'm not going to just wait around hoping the phone will ring. I have a life."

"I know you do, Bella. How about a firm promise to speak at least every other day, even if only a quick hello, and one of us will try to text once a day. But you can call or type just as well as I can."

"I like it. What about visiting each other? I like how you just rode into town and swept me off my feet today, but what if I had plans? Would you like it if I just showed up out of the blue?"

"I get that. Advance warning before either one of us drives an hour to visit. Cool?"

"Cool," I smile, writing it down. "Plans with friends are sacred. Ali would shave my head if I blow her off too often. So, respecting our time with our friends by not monopolizing each other's time. Neediness sucks."

"You are so fuckin' cool, Babe. I'm likin' this list thing."

"I'm awesome, right?"

"You are. You really are," he murmurs against my lips.

He leans and pushes, pushes and leans, until we end up with my back on the bed and my front on Jasper. Lips, tongues, teeth, hands everywhere. Shirts are flying. I think he forgot about the nookie embargo. Enough talking for now, I guess. We're making noise, but none of it is words.

You know, I like chocolate, and Chuck Taylor high tops, and green Skittles. I like vanilla pudding, and peonies, and watching laundry sway on a clothesline. But I really fucking love Jasper's lip ring grazing my nipple. Best. Fucking. Thing. Ever. And I would have rewarded him for giving me something I love so much, except for…

"Bells! You have _got_ to see this!" Jake yells as he bangs my door open so hard it slams into the wall.

"Oh, fuck. I'm gonna die," Jas says as he jerks himself off of me while trying to both cover me and get as far away from me as humanly possible.

"Shit! What the fuck, Jake?" I am really loud, but Jake cannot hear me over his insane cackling laughter.

"Gross, man. That's my sister. Fuckin' ew, J!" More laughter. Ass.

"Jake, man, I, I, it, we…. Fuck. Don't kill me," pleads my man.

Jake's eyes meet mine and we burst into new gales of laughter. Silly Jasper, purity's for kids.

"Sit the hell down, man. Your boner's gonna poke out an eye. Fuck, that was funny," Jake tells him, trying to calm down.

"This is why, Bella. This. Is. Why." He shakes his head and grumbles, "I think I sprained my dick jumpin' off you that fast."

"Please don't break that. I like it."

"Bella. Stop talkin'. Seriously," Jas says super seriously.

"Ok, baby. Jake, what the hell?"

"Oh. Yeah. Seth's climbing up to the roof to get Fiona down. He's gonna bust his ass. Come watch." And he leaves. Just like that.

"See, Jas. You sprained your dick for nothing. Jake is not going to kill you, baby," I smiled.

"Babe, let's just brush aside the fact that your seventeen foot tall brother just caught me molesting you. He broke down the damn door to tell you your dog is on the roof and the twelve foot baby of the family is climbing up after her. Should we do something about that?"

"I guess. Fi gets up there all the time. Seth going after her is new, though. We can go watch if you want, " I reply, pulling on my shirt.

"Y'all are fuckin' crazy. Even the damn dog. Crazy."

"I know, Jas. The fear wears off eventually."

Outside in the front yard, Jas is warily eyeing my dad, still not quite sure how to act.

"Jas, chill. He _did_ let you go up to my room. He's cool. Calm down and watch the show."

Ah, yes. The show. Seth has followed Fiona's trail up to the roof via the porch roof, but he's climbed too high and can't get down without falling. Fiona has proven to be much more agile at rooftop maneuvers. Jake's right; Seth is gonna bust his ass.

"Uh, Seth? Need help, buddy?" my dad calls out.

"No, no, I got this," my little brother yells with far more confidence than his spastic actions show. One particularly fast slide down the peak of the roof is accompanied by a quiet _Oh shit._ Yep, that's more accurate.

Jake is calling out highly unreliable instructions, Mom is admonishing him to be careful, Fiona is staring at him in confusion, and Dad is simply shaking his head and waving to the neighbors.

"Should I help?" Jas asks, unable to take his eyes of the flailing figure of my brother.

"Nope. I'll do it," I tell him.

"What? You are not going up there, Babe."

"You're right. Fi! Fiona! Get down here right this second, young lady!" I shout in my pissed-off-mommy voice. Fi snaps her head in my direction, huffs at Seth, who is barely hanging on by a shingle, and reverses her route until she reaches my feet. This is so much easier to do without Ali and her distracting hysterics.

"Aw, hell, Bells. You could have let him struggle a little longer," complains Jake.

"Jake. Stop it. Your sister was right in saving Seth's life. Don't be mean," my mom tells him, barely containing her giggles. Mom loves a good slapstick sketch.

"I'll go get the ladder," Dad says, jogging toward the garage.

Seth is staring daggers at me. "I could have gotten her, you know."

"I know," I assure him.

"Y'all are crazy."

"It's ok, Jasper," my mom explains. "This is just a Monday. You should see the weekends around here. Staying the night?"

"Uh, no? I have to, uh, work tomorrow?" Poor boy is so dumfounded he can't speak declaratively.

"All right, dear. Until next time," she tells him, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm off to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Renee. Thanks for dinner."

"Nonsense. That was all Isabella," she says, walking inside.

"G'Night, Mom."

"J? You ok? You look a little shell shocked, dude," a comically concerned Jacob asks.

"I feel like I'm in the fuckin' Twilight Zone. You people can't be real."

"That bad, huh," Jake offers.

"No, man, fuck that. That _good_. This is the first time I've met a girl's family. I thought you or Charlie would beat the hell out of me at the door - with an assist from Seth, of course. If Bella had told me it was gonna go down like this, I'd have had to seriously rethink my opinion on her stability."

"Shit, man. We're all so used to this circus, we just seem normal to us, you know," Jake responds, amused. "I'm heading in. Guess I really ought to do some homework. Night."

"Good night, Jake," Jasper says, shaking his head. "Some things just sound too normal. Homework. Shit."

Walking over to him, I get as close as I can, wrapping my arms around his waist, snuggling my face into his chest. The night air has chilled, and I savor both his warmth and his scent. He feels so good, so right, as his arms tighten around me. It's been an important day, I think, but it's coming to an end.

"You did great today, Jas. You handled the insanity very well. Thank you," I say quietly, punctuating my gratitude with a slow, lingering kiss. His lips are one of my favorite places to be.

"You're welcome, Babe," he says against my lips, as reluctant as me to break contact. "If this was what I had to do to keep you around, well, it could have been worse. The worst is over, right?"

"I think so. What happened with Dad? Really. Will you tell me?" I really will be ok if he chooses not to tell me. I figure it's between the two of them, and if it's private, it's private.

"He… ," he begins with a sigh. "He took one look at my arms and knew. A cop would, you know. If my daughter was hangin' out with a convict, I'd have the same questions, I guess - if I didn't beat the hell out of him for bein' near her to begin with. He asked when, wanted to know why. All I could do was tell him the truth. I told you, I don't lie. I explained a little about why I came to Washington, about Pete and the shop. He honestly seemed more worried about me bein' in the band than anything else, by the end. He laid down some rules that are not to be broken when it comes to you, then he shook my hand, slapped my back - hard - and told me to go find you. That, aside from the details, is about it."

"I'm sorry, Jas," I mumble into his shirt.

"Don't be. I promise, I would not have done any of this - pick you up, make that list, meet the family, explain myself to a cop - if I didn't think you were worth it. You are. You're worth it, Bella."

This kiss is better than the rest. Not harder, not more passionate, not deeper. Just more intense, more emotional, just… more. In only days this _man _has become more. More than the others, more than I thought he would be. It's a little scary. However, I push that fear to the back of my mind as I feel his hands moving over me, one on the back of my neck under my hair, the other moving deliberately down my back. I think I would have been treated to a full on grope if Seth hadn't chosen this very second to yell at my dad.

"I can get down, Dad! I do NOT need the ladder!"

"Seth Henry Clearwater Swan, if you fall, I will laugh, point, and photograph the moment. I swear it. Get your ass on this ladder right now, or I will put it away and forbid anyone to get it back out. Make a choice, son; it's getting cold."

"No ladder," Seth insists. Boys are stupid.

"Fine. Have a good night," dad tells him. He puts the ladder back in the garage, waves to Jas and me, and goes inside. This will not keep him awake.

Seth meanwhile, is trying frantically to figure out how to reach one of the second story windows without falling off the steeply pitched peak of the house. It would be so very funny if I wasn't pretty sure Seth would be spending the night on the roof. Kid's gotta learn, I guess.

Jas grips me tighter and chuckles under his breath. Sighing in resignation, he asks, "Want me to get him down?"

"No, baby. Petulance and pride have written his ticket for the night. Dad will eventually help him down just to get Mom to stop worrying and Jake to stop ragging on Seth. There will be photographs first, I assure you.

"Ok, then. I need to go, Babe. I have to meet a customer early."

"Ok," I agree.

"You have to actually let me go, Bella, before I can leave."

"Ok."

"Now I don't wanna let go," he says, rubbing my back, kissing my neck.

"Ok."

After one more spectacular kiss wherein he licks my lips and I bite his lip ring, Jas is on his bike, wearing his helmet.

"I'll call some time tomorrow, Babe."

"Be careful."

He starts the bike and rides away. And I watch until I can't see him anymore.

"Bells. Come on in. We need to have a talk."

"Coming, Dad."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I do own the username "QuaffleDust22142" on Pottermore, and a fleeting sense of embarrassment at my enduring fangirl-ness.**

After snapping five or six pics on my phone - every one featuring Seth flipping me off from his perch on the roof - and posting them to Facebook, I drag my ass into the house on reluctant feet. I love my dad, I really do. Whole big bunches of love for the man. But this conversation? Well, I would happily avoid him for, oh, I don't know, ten or twelve years. I knew it was coming; I'm the one who brought Jas over here. I just wish I hadn't pressed the issue so soon. But maybe this _was_ the right time. Mom likes him, the boys get along with him, Dad's giving him a chance. But Dad also wants to "talk." Too soon? The right time? Fuck, I don't know. What's done is done and must now be discussed. Oh, joy.

Mom and Dad sit at the kitchen table waiting for me.

"I thought you were going to bed, Mom."

"Your Dad and I thought this might be more important." Not exactly comforting.

"Ok. Let's do this. You both seem to like him," I begin, attempting to flood the room with positive feelings. Maybe they will drown the negative ones floating around my parents.

"Yeah, Bells, I like him. He seems to be very attentive to you, respectful to us. Jake and Seth haven't tried to run him off, and that says a lot. But you have to realize we have some concerns. He was honest, and I respect and appreciate that. But, well…" my dad says, trailing off at the end.

I look to Mom for help as I take a seat with them looking at me from across the table. You gotta come through for me, Renee. Bring out the hippy love guru living inside.

"Isabella, we aren't saying you can't see him. You're almost a grown woman, and your mistakes are your own to make -"

"But, Mom! He's not a mistake!" Not cool, guru.

"You didn't let me finish. Calm down," she tells me, hands up and open in a clear plea for me to slow my roll. "Your mistakes are yours to make just like your successes belong to you and only you. You are responsible for your own life and happiness, Bella. He seems to make you happy. We just want to be sure you know what he brings with him. He laid a lot on your father. We want to make sure you have the whole story."

"Hm. Well, I know he did time. Some of his ink is prison tattoos, and that's how you knew, right Dad?"

"Bella, juvenile detention isn't exactly like prison, honey, but yeah, they were pretty obviously done inside. He told me why he was there. What did he tell you?"

"Stealing cars…" I look away. Did he tell Dad about the drug use? I don't want to make things worse, but I don't outright lie to my parents. Lie by omission? Sure. But not when they ask directly. "And drugs."

"Yep. That's what he told me, too. And he knows I'll check up on that, so I feel pretty confident he was straight with me. He also told me that he was done with all that," Dad says, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah. He's said that. His friends have told me that, too." Well, Rose did, anyway; she's his friend. "I haven't seen him do anything wrong."

"He seems to be a pretty honest kid, Bella. Quite endearing," Mom admits as she smiles. "And sexy as hell, too."

"Renee!"

"Mom! Please, just, no. Openness is awesome, but stop looking at my man. Shit."

"All right, fine. But he is, Isabella," she informs me, smiling widely.

"Yeah. I know, " I smile back.

"Aw, hell," Dad groans. He knows that I am, uh, well informed on the subject of male/female interactions, but does NOT like to be reminded.

"Jas said something about rules that are not to be broken. I think I should know what those are, don't you?"

Dad sighs heavily. "He didn't tell you?"

"No. I got the feeling he was a little overwhelmed by the whole evening. Will you tell me what the rules are? Or are they just between the two of you?"

"What did you tell the boy, Charlie?" Renee asks. She's dying to know.

"Um," my dad chuckles, looking at me. "I kind of made a list of my own, Bells."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. He is forever making fun of my lists. "And what did you put on that list?"

"Mostly basic, common sense, Dad stuff. The theft and drugs have to stay in the past. I will personally arrest him if I catch even a hint of that bullshit around him. He is not to take you down with him; I won't allow it. Also, you are to wear a helmet each and every damn time you get on that damn motorcycle. One little scratch on you as a result of that deathtrap, and I'll dismantle it myself."

Um, my dad kinda hates motorcycles, just in case you didn't get that. He tolerates the boys and my dirt bikes, but he does not have to like them, as he tells us so very, very often. "Ok, Dad. Perfectly reasonable. Anything else?"

"You'll be wanting to see his band, I guess. I don't mind you going out when Emmett or Edward are around, but I don't think that will always be the case anymore. Am I right?"

"Yeah. Edward isn't really in the picture anymore. Not at all. Emmett and his girlfriend Rose sometimes, maybe. They're really good friends with Jas."

"I see. Well, Jasper is to keep an eye on you, wherever you might be, when you go out to see him play. Some of those places in Port Angeles and Seattle can be rough, no place for a young girl." He sighs heavily, scratching his mustache. "Bella, fun and excitement are fine. Live your life, enjoy it! But danger is another thing. Do not let him put you in danger. That's the actual rule, really. He is not to hurt you, or let you get hurt, in any way. And you are not to let him. Do you understand?"

I nod silently.

"Isabella, he's older, from a much bigger city, with a different life experience. Don't let him dazzle you into doing things that are not in your best interest. _You_ make your choices, not him. Always. That's all. Ok?" my mom says, explaining her concern.

My parents very rarely lay down any kind of law. They feel like they've taught us all the difference between right and wrong, and they let us work out the finer points for ourselves. There is the understanding that given this freedom, we are to face the consequences of our choices on our own - no bailing us out of trouble just because we're the Chief's kids. Traffic tickets stick, bad grades stand, belly piercings remain off center when we sneak off to have them done on the sly (don't ask).

"I understand," I begin, clearing my throat, .as realization dawns. "But is this about Jas or Paul?"

"Both, I guess. I hated that kid. I didn't act on my instincts. I tried too hard to stay out of it, to play the cool Dad, that I let him treat you badly. You were miserable with him. I may not be the strictest parent you'll ever meet, but you're still my daughter," he says gruffly. I am my Daddy's little girl, after all.

"Bella," Mom pipes up, gaining my attention. "It's not only Paul that we've learned from. Edward, too, honey."

My father huffs a little at this, not understanding. But Mom knows. She gets it. Always so perceptive. Hippy love guru, you know.

"Just remember, honey, always your decisions; you are in control of you. It's not about what other people decide for you."

"Ok, Mom. I'll remember. I promise you both. Jasper, he's a great guy. I like him a lot. He'll be good to me. He's not Paul or Edward. He likes me for me. Really. And I have no doubt he'll keep people in line around me. He has kind of a protective streak."

"He really does," Jake interjects from the entrance to the kitchen. Sneak, I think, as we all turn to look at him. "He'll keep her safe. No one would dare cross him."

Upstairs in my room, Fiona and I are all snuggly in bed when my phone spits Katy Perry out at me. In all the crazy and emotion that has been swirling around the house tonight, I forgot to call Ali. Heaven forbid she waits until morning to get all the details.

"Ali. Sleepy. Tomorrow. M'kay?"

"Ugh, Bella. Fine. Just a hint?"

"Jas. Dad. Too much talking. Seth. Fiona. Roof. Crazy shit ensues. Check my Facebook. Is that enough?"

"No. Hell no. But I guess it will have to do. Meet you early. Love you!"

"Night, Ali. Love you, too."

Tossing my phone and getting comfortable again, I think back over the day. I smile and just can't seem to stop. This day has included Twink the Elf scaring the shit out of Lauren Mallory, Jas sweeping me off my feet, Mom and Dad accepting Jas, and Seth spending time up on the roof. He's still there, though I can hear sounds that are suspiciously similar to a ladder being leaned against the house by someone's chuckling father. I fall asleep giggling.

Tuesday I got up, went to school, filled Alice in on each and every minute detail from the moment I left school on the back of Jasper's Harley, fielded even more questions from jealous bitches and a couple of delusional dudes about my new friend on the motorcycle, came home, Jas called, I got horny, I went to bed. Wednesday I got up, went to school, scared the fuck out of Lauren by growling at her, came home, didn't call Jas so as not to appear desperate, Jas texted me to tell me Sketchy Pete said hi, I texted Jas to tell him I was thinking of his lip ring, I hung out with Ali and Mike at her house and had to see them making out, was still horny, went to bed. Thursday I got up, went to school, called Jas in between English and World History, talked just dirty enough to get us both completely frustrated, went home, went to bed pissed off for no discernable reason. Oh, thank God, Friday is finally here!

Jasper is taking me out tomorrow night. He wants to celebrate my birthday in Port Angeles alone together, he says. I'm hoping for some time alone in his apartment; anything else would just be bonus, honestly. My family is fine with my being gone tomorrow tonight, as long as I spend the day with them.

Traditionally, we picnic on First Beach with close family friends for our birthdays, even Mom's, and her birthday is in January. That one's a short picnic featuring hot chocolate. The Swan - Clearwater - Black clan started this to celebrate Seth's first birthday with us. Our parents thought he might need to feel close to his parents, his roots. We did it again when Jake's big day came around. When my birthday arrived that year, the boys insisted we had to go to the birthday beach picnic. They couldn't quite understand why we wouldn't, because that's what we did, right? We've done it ever since; it's one of the things that helped cement us as a family. Over the years, the guest list has grown to include the Cullens, Jake's, Seth's, and my friends, the Tribal Council and their families, Dad's fishing buddies, and Mom's book club, depending on whose birthday is being celebrated. This year, I've added Jas, Brian, Jeremy, John, Larry, and Sketch. Should make for an interesting day, don't you think?

But first, I must make it through Friday at school.

Edward stared at me a lot at school this week but hasn't spoken to me since I left him bleeding on the beach. In fairness, I haven't tried to speak to him, either. He was home when I was at his house with Ali, but he never left his room. Mike said he spends a lot of time alone now that Jess is out of the picture. Ali said Jess is not taking the beak up well, so Ed spends a lot of time trying to avoid her, too. He's finally dealing with some consequences. I feel sorry for the boy who was my friend. Just a little bit, though.

Today hasn't been as bad I a thought it might be. A few whispers from those who just can't let the gossip die, a few birthday wishes from closer acquaintances for tomorrow, but mostly it's been a day like any other. But as Angie and I make our way through the hall toward my locker before lunch, I can see the balloons from a distance. Who did this? It's not really like my friends to do this sort of thing. I look at Angie, who just shrugs.

"Ali, maybe?" she asks.

"I don't think so," I tell her, confused. Then I see Alice, moving back and forth in front of the giant, truly huge, bouquet of mylar flowers, kissy lips, and musical note balloons attached to my locker. She's taking pictures with her phone. "What's all this, Ali?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

"It _was _you?" I ask surprised.

"No. Well, I put them there, but they're not from me."

"Huh?"

"Just read the card, dumbass," she squeals, handing, me a little pink square of paper.

_For our very own non-Yoko from her boys. Happy Birthday. Kisses, Brian, John, Jerad and Larry_

"How?" I gasp at Ali as I shriek in laughter. Angie comes closer so she, too, can read the card. We're both doubled over trying to control ourselves.

Through her own giggles, Ali explains, "Brian texted me yesterday afternoon. They already had the plan, but they couldn't get here to do it. They all have jobs. Weird. So anyway, he asked me to set it up for him."

"Brian texts you?" asks Angela. "Does Mike know that?"

"Yeah, he knows. It's not a big deal. They were all just so goofy, I decided that we absolutely had to be friends." I love her. She loves everyone. "I'm sending him these pictures of the balloons and your reaction."

"Thank you, Ali," I say, hugging her little self. "Tell him I love the surprise and to thank himself and my boys. Know what? Never mind. Give me his number instead."

"I have numbers for them all. Want them?"

I compose one text and blast them all.

_To my boys: Thank you for the kissy, musical balloons. The only thing better would have been a serenade. Hugs from you very own non-Yoko._

I have no intention of leaving these awesome balloons in the hallway where any asshole could come along and pop them, so I untie them and carry them with me to lunch. They garner a lot of attention. Reaching our table, I tie them to the back of my chair. When I return from the lunch line with my bag of fries, a giant stuffed pig wearing sunglasses and a bandanna around its head has joined my friends at the table. What the hell?

"What the hell?" There's that brain-to-mouth connection again.

"Read the card, Bella," sighs Ali.

_An unusual gift for an Unusual Bella. Hope you like this hog. Piggy smooches and a birthday leer from Sketchy Pete. Welcome to adulthood, baby girl._

Mike is reading the card over my shoulder. "You have some creepy friends, Bells."

"And I love you all," I smirk at him.

Ali giggles. "You're getting much better at the smirk, Bella."

The after lunch slog through the halls to get to my next class finds me lugging around not only my balloons, which smack many an unsuspecting kid in the face, but also Sketchy Pig, as I have named him. This thing is ginormous, a little more than half my size. He elicits both _aw_'s and strange looks alike, but he cannot be ignored - much like Pete himself. Finally adjusting all of my birthday gifts around my desk in French class in such a way that they don't pose an immediate safety hazard, Madame attempts to start the lesson. She doesn't get far.

"Delivery for Isabella Swan?" The guy from the florist shop looks a little intimidated by all the hormones and angst in the room, not to mention the exasperated sigh coming from the teacher. Twenty fingers point my way.

"I'm Bella Swan."

"Here you go. Happy birthday," he says way too brightly, shoving a teddy bear attached to even more balloons in my arms. This time the balloons are big, letter-shaped, and bright blue, spelling out B-E-L-L-A. I read the card without having to be told this time.

_Happy 18__th__ from Brother Bear. Love you, Bells. Emmett _

This time I teared up. This has to be the end of it. My family will wait until tomorrow. Ali, Mike, Angie, and Ben will be at the picnic, so they'll wait, too. I don't think I can take much more love.

After our last class, Ali and Mike help me through the halls to the front door. Too bad they didn't run interference, as well.

"Well, well, Bella. Just how many guys feel the need to kiss your ass so publicly? Wonder what you do to deserve so many admirers? How many are someone else's boyfriend?" Jessica.

"Yeah," offers Lauren, after much profound thought, I'm sure. "Slut much?"

"Bella, would you please take your pig back for a moment?" Ali asks sweetly. "I'm gonna fuck her up. I just can't take that much stupid wrapped up in just one bitch anymore."

Mikey lets out one long-suffering sigh. "Ali, please do not beat up Lauren."

"But I really, really want to," she whines, batting her eyelashes. He can't resist.

"Ok. But just a little bit."

Lauren steps behind Jess for protection. So funny. Like that would help at all if Alice really wanted to get to her. Stupid.

"Jess, these gifts are from my friends, Nothing more. Now, go away, little girl, you're bothering me."

"You're such a bitch! You think you're so great, but -"

She stops bitching at me quite abruptly as both she and Lauren stare wide-eyed and open mouthed at something over my shoulder. Ali is giggling again. Mike whispers something that sounds suspiciously like _gag me. _I notice that everyone I can see, including a few teachers, is looking in the same direction. I turn and see the only sight I know of that can command that kind of attention.

"Hi, Jas."

"Hi, Babe."

"All those flowers for me?"

"Every last one."

"They're beautiful," I say breathing in the heady scent of peony, tulip, and hyacinth. The bouquet requires both hands. "Thank you."

"Happy early birthday, Bella," he says as he leans into me, over the large bunch of flowers, to kiss me soundly. "Sorry I showed up without warning," he tells me quietly. "Ali texted and told me to come. Something about a day of spoiling and surprises."

"This time, Jas, the surprise is just what I wanted."

**A/N: I'm going to try to get the next chapter posted this week. I'm leaving in a week for Tybee Island, Georgia, for this year's Senior Trip. Beach house, heated pool in the back yard, 100 feet from the sand. Being Senior Class advisor is awesome.**

**I have a rec for you. "Shake It Out" by thetreesyoudbe is only getting started but is so amazing already. Give it a shot and leave some love.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I do own a large Scooby Doo beach towel.**

"Uh, Bella? Where the hell did you get a pig with sunglasses?" Jas asks, staring at my piggy with squinted eyes.

"His name is Sketchy Pig, don't hate. Pete sent him to me."

"Right. And all the balloons?" he questions, taking the Pig and leading me to my truck.

"The bear and BELLA ones are from Em, the others are from your band, Jas. Jealous? Worried?"

"Worried, no. I trust you. Jealous, maybe. It's not an emotion I'm used to feeling, Babe. I don't like it," he admits. He looks me in the eyes as we stop beside the passenger side door to deposit my birthday loot. "But it's cool. Emmett's your family, I guess, and my boys have decided they like you more than me anyway." He laughs at that, but I think he's kind of serious. He suddenly erases the grin that has settled on his perfect, pouty, kissable mouth and replaces it with a scowl. His focus is no longer on me, but on a spot over my shoulder.

"What?" I huff, turning around to see the thing that has upset his mood. Shit. Edward.

"Is he walking over here? The fuck?" Jas is incredulous, surprised, pissed.

"I don't know. He hasn't talked to me all week; I don't know why he'd start now," I say calmly to Jasper, hoping to settle him down. Nope.

"Damn right he hasn't talked to you all week. Get in the truck," he tells me in a low, commanding voice. I can't figure out if I'm angry because he's bossing me around, or turned on because he thinks he's protecting me. Caveman Jasper is sexy and confusing.

"Jasper. I don't need to hide. He's not gonna hurt me."

"Bella, I know that. It's not really you I'm worried about right now. If that motherfucker tries to talk to you _while I'm standing right fuckin' here, _it will not end well. Ok? Please. Get in the fuckin' truck."

I'm a little stunned by the intensity with which he says these things to me, but I don't doubt his words for a second. He doesn't want to fight here, he isn't angry with me, and he's been honest enough to tell me exactly what's in his head. I decide not to make this situation any worse and climb into the truck.

"Thank you," he whispers when I roll my window down just a bit.

"J. I just want to talk to her," Edward states when he finally reaches us, sounding surprisingly steady.

"No."

"Fuck you. You speak for her now?" Ok, a little aggressive. I know this attitude; it's the one he borrows from his friend Jack Daniels.

"No. She speaks for herself. I'm speaking for me right now."

"You don't scare me, man."

"I should," Jas responds, sounding chill but the promise is there nonetheless.

"Fuck. I just want to tell her happy birthday. I won't be at the picnic tomorrow, for the first time since we were six," Edward explains, sounding so dejected, so young, so lost. "I didn't get her anything. I knew she wouldn't want anything from me. Damn it, I just want to talk to her."

Jasper glances at me while Ed is looking down at his feet. I shake my head. I can't. Not yet. And not when he's been drinking. That kind of explains why he's been so solitary at school; at home, too, I guess.

"No, Edward. And don't approach her again. If she wants to talk, she'll come to you. You hear me, boy?" Jas takes a step closer to Ed, and I can see the instant he decides not to touch him. Taking a deep breath, he says quietly, " When she's ready to talk, she'll let you know."

Edward stares him in the eye, setting his jaw, knowing he needs to walk away, I'm sure, because there is no doubt in Jasper's eyes, no hesitation on his face. But Edward will not give in. He never does.

"This is how it's going to be, Bella? Hiding from your best friend while some fucking biker low-life stands guard? Don't be such a bitch!" He's shouting at me, eyes a little wild and unfocused, walking toward the partially opened window.

Jasper has had enough at this point. I see him start to make his move only a fraction of a second before his hand makes contact with Ed's upper arm, slamming him into the side of my truck, posture dangerously rigid, arm a restraining bar across Ed's chest. Fucking hell, he's gonna get himself arrested.

"Jas! Jas, stop! Please," I plead as I jump out of the truck, trying to gain eye contact but not touching him. I'm not stupid. "This is going to get bad really fast, baby. You have to let him go."

"This asshole just called you a bitch, Babe," Jas seethed. Seething. Yeah, seething is the word to describe my man at this moment. He wants to hit Edward so badly that_ I _can feel it. "No fuckin' way is that gonna happen."

"Yeah, it's not the first time he's ever called me that. We've known each other a long time. It happens. It doesn't bother me, Jas. Let him go. He's drunk."

"Bella…," he grinds out, finally looking at me. He's so damn frustrated. "Fine."

Jasper turns his full attention back to Edward, who has not uttered a word since his back made violent contact with the side panel of my truck bed.

"You are one lucky motherfucker. Feel blessed, asshole, that she is a much better person than me. But let me promise you, let me fuckin' _guarantee, _that if you call my girlfriend a bitch again, she won't be able to stop me while I beat you until the cops come and pull me off of your ass. We clear this time, boy?"

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever." Jas removes his arm from across his chest, then Edward walks away.

But who gives a shit about Edward?

Jasper lifts himself into the drivers seat of my truck, jaw clenched, and holds his hand out for my keys. Instead of giving him the keys, I jump in his lap and start kissing the living hell out of him.

"Bella? Babe, I'm not complaining or anything," he says against my lips, palming my ass, "but I thought you'd be pissed. What..?"

"Jas." Kiss. "You just called me." Kiss. "Your girlfriend!"

"I did?"

"You did." Does he regret it?

"Guess I did. I'm assuming from this reaction that you are not upset that I broke another rule already?"

"What rule, Jas?" I ask a little confused.

"I just gave us a label, Babe."

"No, I don't mind. It's my birthday weekend; I can have whatever I want even if it's against the rules. Who made that stupid rule anyway," I tease, kissing him passionately and, as it is coming to my attention, very publicly. The almost-fight and Edward's yelling and calling me a bitch kinda drew a crowd. That crowd is now hooting and applauding. Jas tips an imaginary hat to them as I remove myself from his lap. I finally give him the keys, and we take off.

"What about your bike, Jasper?"

"I'm pretty sure it will be safe for a while. My helmet is back there," he tells me, pointing to the bed of my truck.

"So. Got a plan?"

"Uh, kinda. Can I just say that your tiny friend is just this side of psychotic genius? She cleared it with your mom for me to stay over tonight under the pretense that it will be so much easier for me to help set up the party tomorrow if I was already here."

He starts to laugh so freely that I can't help but join him. I watch him the whole time, though. He's so beautiful when he laughs.

"That's Ali. Get used to it."

"I'm beginning to see that it just may be easier to do as she says," he admits, calming himself down to a slow chuckle.

"Admitting defeat, Jasper?"

"Just conceding the field to a better player. She kinda scares me, to tell the truth."

"She will love that! I'm pretty sure that's what she's usually going for."

"Nope. That's our secret. I'll never admit it, even under extreme torture."

"Ah, leverage. Information to be used a t a later date. I love it," I giggle. "So what are we doing tonight? I can't imagine you're here to hang out with Charlie." Oh God, I shudder to think.

"Yeah, no. I had tomorrow off anyway since Peter's closing the shop for the day, and the afternoon was slow, so he gave me the evening off. I'm not convinced that Ali didn't somehow get to him, too." He reaches for and grabs my hand, lazily rubbing his thumb across the sensitive skin at my wrist. Who am I kidding? Anywhere he touches is sensitive skin. "And I was thinking… it's Friday night," he says, looking expectantly at me.

"Yeah, so?"

"I haven't been to a high school football game in a very long time."

If I could stop the laughter bubbling up behind the smile I am trying to repress, I swear I would. I just can't.

"You wanna go to the Forks High football game tonight?" I mange to gasp out around the rolling thunder of my very unpleasant laughter.

"Why the hell are you laughing at me, Bella?" Shit, he's not laughing. Fucking STOP, Bella!

"Jasper, I'm sorry," I say sincerely as the full on donkey bray subsides to a soft chuckle. "That was just so far from anything I could have even guessed you would say. You took me by surprise, is all. I'm sorry. Really," I apologize, placing small kisses on his cheek and the corner of his mouth. "Forgive me?" I ask, wide-eyed and innocent-looking, as I run my hand down his chest.

"I guess,' he tells me, giving me the side eye. He turns his head and captures my lips for a quick kiss. "Do you not go see Jake and Mike play? I thought they were both on the team."

"Yeah, we do. All of us, usually, unless they have an off week. You really sure you want to go?"

"Bella, I'm from Texas remember? Friday ain't Friday without football. I haven't had a reason to go to a game since I moved here. Kinda miss it. Do you not want me to go?" I do not like that tone of doubt in his voice. Not at all.

"Baby, I can't wait to sit in those bleachers and watch every single cheerleader drool into her pom poms and writhe in her spanks over you."

"Is that right?" Fucking smirk. God help me.

"Yeah, that's right. Then, when I'm sure they're watching, I'm gonna stick my tongue so far down your throat we may need a winch to get it out."

"I like your spirit, Babe."

"Go Spartans."

We make it to my house where my mother hugs Jas with a look of dreamy satisfaction on her face. I cannot bring myself to think too long or too hard on that look. Is she glad he's here for me? Does she think he's sweet? Is she dwelling on the fact that she thinks he's dead sexy? Fuck if I know. Moving on.

As soon as I am able to rescue Jas from Renee Swan's ravenous, cougar-like clutches, we head out back to the hammock strung between two tall pines in the back yard. Not a lot of talking, just resting upon each other, stretched out, fingers intertwined, watching the diffused sunlight striving to warm us through the boughs above. I listen to his even, light breathing and look over at him to find he has relaxed to the point of slumber. My man is tired. His face is so soft. Not soft like chubby, my God, no. The angles are still there - his jaw line, his cheekbones. The masculine fullness of his lips, the straight line of his nose, the expansive plain of his forehead - all still uniquely Jasper Whitlock. I mean soft like, well. Have you ever seen an Impressionist painting? That's Jas right now. All blurred edges from his shaggy hair falling in his face, dappled light barely touching his skin, a deceptive innocence caught in an every day scene. He's a fucking Renoir masterpiece.

We must have been out here longer than I thought, because I can hear Jake and Seth yelling their way through the house. I need to go get dinner going. Jake will need to eat then get back to school. Thankfully, Jas hears them too and blinks his eyes awake. I'm glad because I really did not want to be the one to remove him from that tableau of perfection.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Babe. I didn't mean to fall asleep," he says in a voice made husky by his nap. He rubs the blurry edges sharp again with one swipe of his hand.

"It's ok. You looked like you needed it," I say softly, a small smile teasing the corners of my mouth as I remember the boy I saw hiding behind the face of the man.

"Been a long week." He stares intently at me for a moment, as if to try to figure out the smile, then kisses me slowly, softly, deeply. However appealing the boy may have seemed, it is the man, _this_ man, I want.

"Bella! Mom says feed us!" Seth yells from the back door.

"You gotta cook? What's for dinner?" Jas suddenly looks very awake and hungry.

"Very simple tonight. Spaghetti and meatballs, salad, garlic bread. It's fast, filling, and I can make a ton of it."

"Mmm, sounds good. All right, I'll let you get up now, but you have to promise me that we'll crawl back into this hammock some day soon. I can't remember the last time I took a nap that didn't also involve a hangover," he bargains, stretching his muscled arms above his head. He flips his long denim-clad legs over the side and helps me out of the hammock, following close behind. As we head across the yard toward the back door, Jas takes my hand, lacing our fingers together, making sure to match my stride.

"Aw, look, Mom. They're being cute and sweet. It's adorable," sighs Seth dramatically.

"Seth, you want to eat? I control the food around here, you know. Keep it up, kid, and we'll have nothing but tofu for a week," I threaten. Seth cannot survive without meat. Cannot survive. He has explained this to me time and again, usually after I have made a meal that included no meat. "Better yet, I'll let Mom cook."

"Hell no, Bella. I take it back. Nothing adorable happening here," he back pedals, visions of granola and suspicious smelling attempts at Indian food making him see the error in his teasing ways. "Need help?"

"Yeah, Seth. Thanks. I'll do the meatballs, you start the salad." We begin to move around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and utensils, working around each other with practiced ease. Seth helps me cook most Fridays. It's become our time together to talk, or not talk. Sometimes he has a lot on his mind; sometimes he is just craving the comfortable quiet we can share with each other. Later tonight it will be all about Jake. We'll sit together as a family, with all of our friends around, boisterously cheering for Jacob down on the field, but the time Seth and I spend making dinner is just about him. And, my God, don't we all need those moments?

"Need me to do anything, Babe?" Jas asks, surprising me out of my automatic routine. Seth looks at me to see what I'll decide.

"No, Jas. Why don't you go into the living room and relax? Go ahead and watch some TV with Jake. Dinner will be ready in about a half hour." And with that, I give him a quick, very chaste kiss and shove him lightly out of the kitchen. As much as I enjoy having Jasper around, this time belongs to my brother.

He is in a talking mood today. He asks about Jas, how things are going, if I really _really _like him, if he is being nice to me, He asks about Edward and if it is true that we aren't friends anymore. He tells me he is sorry when I give him a few details about why that is sadly true. He tells me about the drama surrounding the swim team, telling me the relay order is all about politics and that clearly he should anchor but they won't give him that position because he's a freshman. He tells me about delicate little blonde Jane, also a freshman, on the girls team who he just might be meeting at the game tonight.

"Do you think you could give us a ride to the diner, Bells? I hate to ask with J here and all, but I'd already decided to try to join our friends tonight. If you don't want to that's -"

"Seth. It's fine, really. I'll do it. Jas has to pick up his bike and drive it back here anyway. I'll drive you and Jane, and Jas can follow. We'll eat at the diner - away from you guys, Seth, don't give me that look - and then we'll take her home. Jas is staying tonight, by the way."

The look of gratitude and relief on my baby brother's face would be comical if it wasn't so genuine. "Thanks, Bella. You'll like her," he tells me.

"I know I will. Because you do. Now, tell me everything you know about Jake's red head."

We continue cooking while filling each other in on the few meager bits of knowledge we possess about Jake's girl from the beach. Victoria is her name, Seth informs me. We don't know much else. A mystery. Dinner's done and on the table, and we call the rest of the house to eat. Dad's not home yet, but I feed all my hungry boys and my happy Mom. The food is good, the conversation loud and obnoxious. Typical Friday. Jake eats twice as much as anyone else in half the time and heads out the door.

By the time Seth and I have cleared the dishes, loaded the dishwasher, and put the leftovers way, my Dad is home. He greets my mother with a kiss and is shaking Jasper's hand when I enter the living room.

"Hello, Bells. How was your day?"

"Balloon filled. Did you see all the stuff my friends sent me?"

"Yeah, it's a balloon forest over by the stairs. The pig is interesting. And these flowers?" he asks, pointing at the huge arrangement on the coffee table.

"From Jas."

My dad chuckles. "Good boy." He and Jasper laugh together. "Let me eat and change and we'll head to the field."

**A/N: This is honestly not where I thought this chapter was going, but Seth needed me to pay attention. So there you go. **

**Chaperone duty for Senior Trip 2012 in ONE DAY! Such a hardship - sand, sun, time to write. LOL! **


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thank you for all the good wishes for my trip. My girls and I had an amazing time. Senior Trip 2012 was a great success. I highly recommend coastal Georgia.**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do get an all expense paid trip every May. Senior trips are good.**

Sitting in our customary spot in the bleachers - above the home team bench, four rows back (Jake won't let us sit right up on the bench because he's afraid we'll all be way too willing to give him advice) - Seth and I begin the evening by filling Jas in on some of the finer points of Spartan Stadium.

"Over there," I point out a space across the field. "See that ripped Newton Sporting Goods ad sign? That's where Emmett threw a defensive lineman from Port Angeles through the fence. Something about the dude talking shit about his mom. Em takes Esme very seriously."

"I couldn't even get upset with him," Carlisle says, chuckling from behind us. "How do you punish a boy defending his mother? The Newtons wouldn't even let me replace the sign!"

"Oh, oh, yeah! I remember that! I was, like, ten or something. I think that was the moment Jake and I decided we wanted to be Emmett Cullen when we grew up," Seth roars with laughter.

"That's sweet, Seth," coos Esme from her seat beside Carlisle.

"Over that yet, Seth?" Jas asks curiously.

Seth carefully considers his answer.

"Not really," he confides seriously. "Right under the goal post at this end," he continues more light-heartedly, "is where Dad kissed Mom for the first time."

"Yes, it is," my mom says, taking over this particular anecdote, "right after he won the game that sent Forks to State for the first time ever. Excellent kiss."

"Excellent game," Dad deadpans, but softens the sarcasm with a kiss for my mom. So sweet I'm gonna die. Then vomit. Jas and Seth share the look I'm pretty sure I'm wearing.

"Well, ok then." Ali moves us away from the parental affection. "This sideline right here? This is where I fell from the top of a pyramid and busted my ass at the one game I ever cheered."

"Oh, God, Ali! First, cheerleader? And second, what did you do when you got up? It couldn't have been good for the girl who missed the catch," my man gasps. He can hardly get the question out around the howls of laughter. He's not the only one. Seth shoots some of his soda out his nose at the memory.

"Shut up, Jas. Yes, cheerleader. I LOVED the uniform. I was the smallest girl in school, so they wanted me for that ONE specific task and fu-, uh, fricking DROPPED me. I had Bella beat her up the next Monday."

We all lost it then, kids, parents, people sitting within earshot. We all remembered this story.

"Yeah, she still hates me," I smirk.

"No," says Jas, eyebrow cocked. He's figured it out.

"Yep. Lauren. She's terrified of us both."

"You are so cool."

"I know," I say as I lean over to kiss him quickly.

_Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise for our very own Forks SPARTANS…_

We cheer wildly for both Jake and Mike, waving pennants. Ali wears a homemade t-shirt that reads "My boyfriend makes the best passes" while mine says "My brother can beat you up." Hers is cute and clever, mine straight forward and in your face. Kinda sums us up, no? Ali yells gleefully every time Mike completes a pass and yells threateningly at the opposing players who have the nerve to block a pass. When he is sacked, _hard, _she is apoplectic.

"You son of a - You can't do - is he hurt?"

"Ali, he's fine," Carlisle tells her calmly.

"Oh, God, is he bleeding?" She's standing up now.

"Mary Alice, Mike is fine, dear. Sit down," Esme soothes.

"I am gonna kick your ass!" She's trying to climb over the people in front of us to get to the field, yelling obscenities at the offending player the entire time, her pitch rising with each threat, everyone within sight of her laughing.

"ALI!"

"WHAT, Bella?"

"Calm the fuck down," I whisper in her ear as I pull her back down. "You're freaking out. And stop screeching; only bats can hear you now. He's fine, see? He's already huddled up with the guys."

The game is close, and Jasper seems to be enjoying every moment. He's discussing the best strategy for victory with my dad and hot-doctor Carlisle like they've been asked to plan a third world rebellion. Our moms pull those long-suffering-but -we -love-them-anyway faces and indulge in some town gossip that neither would ever admit to. Seth spots a blonde ponytail and leaves. In between Ali's cheers and screams, she and I make fun of the cheerleaders, throwing popcorn at them for good measure. They pay us no mind; they're used to it.

The game comes to a victorious end. Jas cheers like it's his team and he has personally led them to a win. As we make our way to the parking lot, my dad eyes my boyfriend closely.

"Did you play, Jasper? In Texas?"

"Uh, yeah. Rec league as a little kid, then junior high and two years in high school," Jas tells him.

"Any good?"

"Dad!" Rude question.

"What?" So innocent looking.

"It's ok, Bella," Jas says, shaking his head. Turning back to Dad, he says rather bashfully, "Well, Chief, it _was_ Texas. I wasn't NFL bound, but I had to be pretty good to make it out onto the field."

"You miss it?" I ask.

"Yeah. This was not exactly like a Friday night at home back in the day, but it was close. I had a good time, Babe," he says, bending to brush his lips to mine.

We say good night to the old people, and send Ali off to find Mike to get on with whatever their after-game ritual might be (I don't actually know what it is - I refuse to allow Ali to tell me). Waiting for Seth gets boring, so we make out standing next to my truck.

"There's my sister," I hear Seth making his way over to me.

"Oh, I really hope that's her boyfriend," says a quiet but giggly voice.

She's adorable. Just fucking adorable. Blonde hair so light it's almost white, porcelain-pale skin, eyes big and blue. Tiny and doll-like next to Seth's tall, lean, strong frame. And the most beautiful of her features? The look of total rapture she's wearing while looking at my baby brother. I like her.

"Yeah, he's my boyfriend," I laugh and nod at her. "You must be Jane. Hi, I'm Bella, and this is Jas." I giggle a little as I hear _fuckin' Jas _from my man's direction.

"Hey. Thanks for driving us tonight. You sure you don't mind?"

"No, really, Jane, it's cool. Hop in. We'll get going in just a sec."

I watch with a smile as Seth helps her up into the cab of my rolling miracle. Seth looks back once he's in the truck and mouths _thanks, _then closes the door and turns back to the lithe little cutie sitting next to him. I'm contemplating just how damn old this whole situation is making me feel when a pair of strong, art-covered arms wrap around my waist, and a warm pair of lips graze my neck. Don't really feel old anymore. I feel tingly.

"I'm gonna go get my bike. I'll meet you at the diner. The one on the main drag, just up the road, right?"

"Jasper, that's the only diner in town. See you in a bit." I turn quickly, nip his lip lightly, and run around to the drivers side. Jumping into my seat, I blow him a kiss and barrel down the road. Smart ass passes me a couple minutes later and is waiting for me in the diner parking lot. Damn fast motorcycle, showing off. Jane and Seth don't even notice we've made it to the eatery, much less that we've been involved in an impromptu and extremely unfair drag race.

"Hey! We're here. Jane, do you have a curfew?"

"Uh, yeah. I need to be in by eleven."

"Ok. Have fun, and I'll keep an eye on the time. Go."

"Thanks, Bella," Jane breathes, eyes wide and a little awed. Yeah. I'm that cool.

"Thanks, Bells," smiles my brother.

"Go away, you two. It's my turn with Bella," we hear coming from the direction of that fast, show off bike.

Seth and Jane make their way into the diner to join their friends already inside. They are walking very close, not looking at each other, very careful not to touch. Kid brother has it bad. Jas takes my hand and leads me to a booth.

"Kinda makes you want to be back in high school, doesn't it? Be like these silly kids again?" he muses.

"Jas, I _am_ in high school."

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah. I know, Babe. I was just, uh, thinking about me, I guess," he replies, stumbling over his words.

"Is that going to be a problem for you? You seemed ok with it before." What the hell is going on? That little slip up makes me nervous. Shit. I really like him. Don't punk out now, Jasper. Please.

"No, no. Babe, really, that doesn't bother me at all," he tells me, staring into my eyes, trying desperately to convince me.

I want to be convinced.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, Bella, I'm sure. Sorry."

"It's fine. Overreacted a little, I guess."

"Let's forget I said anything. You hungry? You and Ali didn't eat much, what with throwing most of your popcorn at Jessica and Lauren. You both have wicked aim, by the way."

"Lots of practice."

We order burgers and onion rings, smile indulgently at Seth and his friends, make small talk about tonight's game. But the ease we usually share is strained. We're both bothered by his seemingly innocent and innocuous comment. By 10:30, we're both relieved to head home. I signal to Seth, pointing to my wrist like I really wear a watch, and he hustles Jane to the truck. I send Jas on his way to the house and take Jane home. Seth walks her to her door, and I pretend not to see the small good night kiss he bestows upon her upturned lips. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. It never bothers me to stumble onto Jake doing the deed, but it is tearing up my nerves to see Seth get an innocent smooch. It's different when it's the baby of the family, I guess.

Seth and I are quiet, our usual comfortable quiet, until we park my truck at home.

"Thanks again, Bells. I think she had fun. Do you think she had fun?" He's nervous. It's cute.

"She smiled all night, Seth. Even when you weren't watching. She had a good time."

"J is out back. I saw him when we pulled up. Go deal with whatever's wrong, Bella. Tomorrow's your birthday; you should be happy."

"When did you inherit Mom's love guru mojo?"

"It's always been there, but no one would listen," he responds cheekily before getting out of the truck and heading inside. No doubt he has a long night of Jake-supplied Me-Tarzan-You-Jane teasing ahead of him.

I get out of the truck and slip around the corner to find Jasper sideways in the hammock, feet on the ground, bent forward with his elbows on his knees. He knows I'm coming, of course, because I do not possess an ounce of stealth within my entire being. He watches me approach, a look of trepidation on his beautiful face, as I walk slowly toward him. Slow because I'm afraid. Of him, of me, of this thing between us being so intense and real, of this thing between us unraveling before I want it to. Am I enough, is all my fucked up shit too much? Am I too young for him, too immature to keep his attention? Is my high school existence too boring, too trite, too… high school? Fuck that; he knew what he was getting into.

"All truth, all the time, right, Jas?"

"Yeah." He's not harsh, not mean, not cold. Just a little less warm, a little more distant. His voice is quiet and flat.

"Both ways, right?"

"Just fuckin' spit it out, Bella." He's frustrated, running his hands first through his hair then over his face.

"Fine." Deep breath. "Are you tired of me already?"

"What?" He sits up straighter, really looking at me.

"Your little Freudian slip in the diner got me thinking. Am I not what you thought I would be? Stupid little school girl, trying to hang with -"

I don't get to finish the rant I was working myself up to because before I even realize he's moving, Jasper stops all speech with his mouth pushing almost violently against mine. It's quick but passionate and exactly what I was hoping for, even if I didn't know that until right now.

"Babe, I thought you were gonna tell me to get the fuck out. I thought you were gonna break up with me because I said that dumbass shit. You are not stupid. You are not a little girl. I am NOT tired of you. Understand?"

I nod my head, the huge smile on my face preventing verbal acknowledgment. He's holding my face in his hands, looking me straight in the eyes, willing me to hear him.

"You are not at all what I thought you would be," he continues, thumbs skimming my cheekbones. "You are so much more. Don't let a slip of the tongue, a brain dead comment, tear you up."

"Ok, Jas, ok. I just had to clear that up in my head."

"I really pissed you off, didn't I?" he asks, leading me to the hammock and pulling me down with him.

"Uh, yes. Don't do it again," I warn him as we get situated in much the same position we were in earlier this afternoon.

"Oh, I think I can pretty much guarantee I'll piss you off many times in the future, but I'll do my best," he chuckles. I chuckle with him.

"I'm sure we both will. I just didn't like the thought of you pulling away. I'm sorry I got all weird."

"No, Babe. Really, it's all right. I was just sitting there, watching Seth and Jane and their friends, wishing I could go back. Have that kind of fun, you know? It was tough for me for such a long time. I feel like I cheated myself out of some things by tryin' to be such a hardass. That's all it was, Bella. Just me thinkin' out loud before I really thought it through. Forgive me?" he asks, placing a tender and sweet kiss on the top of my head.

"Yeah."

"Thank you."

We stay out here, nestled together for a long time. I keep feeling his skin, inhaling his scent, relaxing into his strong embrace. He has me wrapped in his arm, face turned into my hair, fingers lightly caressing the sliver of skin exposed between the hem of my shirt and the top of my jeans. His touch sends shivers down my spine, causes goosebumps on my skin.

"You gettin' cold, Babe?" he murmurs in my ear. That's so not why I shivered, but it is a bit chilly.

"Yeah. We should go in. We should get some sleep. You'll need to head down to the beach pretty early."

"Shit. How early?"

"Um, Dad usually heads out there at about eight. He sets up his grill, gets the seating and marquee set up, just in case it rains; and let's face it, it's Forks - it's going to rain at some point. We won't really need to get there before eleven, I guess. I just thought you and the boys would want to go with Dad."

"What time will everyone else be there?"

"Around noon."

"Why the hell is Charlie there so damn early then?"

I cock my eyebrow at him to show him that he should know. He shrugs his shoulders, lost.

"It's Charlie, Jas. He's fishing."

"Of course. What was I thinking?" He helps me out of the hammock, throws his arm around my shoulders, and walks me into the house. "Um, Bella? Where am I sleeping?"

"With me." Duh.

"No fuckin' way. Are you serious?" He is having an Alice moment. Honest to God.

"Jasper, it's fine. It's ok. They know you're here, you have permission remember?" He's so cute. So strong and hard most of the time, reduced to hand-wringing panic at the thought of being in my bed with my dad in the house. In most homes, I could understand that, but here…

"All right. Fine. But you have to keep your grabby little hands above the covers, Babe."

"You're not serious!"

He looks at me very sternly, and if he'd been able to hold it in for just a couple more seconds, he'd have had me believing him. However, when I meet his eyes with mine he nearly doubles over laughing.

"I can't be that close to you, Bella, without at least coppin' a feel. I just can't take it too far, Babe. I'll be constantly worried that either your brothers will bust in the door and laugh, or your father will bust in the door and shoot my balls off. Take it easy on me tonight. I'm beggin'."

"Sure, sure. No banging the headboard. Whatever. Wanna pretend you're a cucumber?"

**A/N: Pete and the boys show back up in the next chapter. Hilarity will hopefully ensue. Afraid my trip has thrown me off my game, so let me know if I'm still getting it right. I can't even describe how important reviews and comments have become to me. It's an instant gratification like none other and a great encouragement to continue.**

**REC: Hamartia Rocks by edwards-girl-4-ever. Vamps, sex, drugs, rock and roll, and a very pissed off Bella.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I am so sorry if I have not responded to your reviews for chapter 20. The end of the school year is upon me, and I have been running around like the proverbial headless chicken. THEN, the laptop on which I write… and create the slideshow for graduation… crashed! THEN, I broke my wrist while my kid was teaching me to box. Hallelujah, all is getting better now!**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do own my story. Since FFn is having some issues with randomly pulling some stories they deem inappropriate, I am taking precautions. Though I will continue to post updates here as long as FFn allows, I am also on The Writer's Coffee Shop under the same pen name. If I disappear from this site, I want you all to know that you have boosted my ego, encouraged my writing, and convinced me that this was a worthwhile risk. Thank you all so much for all of your kindness!**

"Holy shit! I fuckin' love cucumbers," wheezes Jas as he releases his hold on my hair.

I look up at him from my position between his legs, wipe my bottom lip with my thumb, and move forward to lean on his belly. Smiling. Both of us.

"See! Didn't I tell you? You should never underestimate the value of diligent practice," I say, a little smug, listening to him trying to catch his breath, feeling his stomach muscles expand and contract with the effort.

"Never doubt you again. Fuck. Did I get too loud?" he asks, suddenly concerned with propriety now that his dick is no longer in my mouth.

"No, Jas," I giggle, climbing farther up his body to rest on his chest and trace the thick black lines of his infinity tattoo. "You do owe me a pillow, though. Did you rip it with your hands or teeth?"

"I have no damn clue, Babe. I don't remember doin' it! I was just tryin' to be quiet. That was so good, I think I blacked out for a second there," he chuckles, playing with the lace straps on my pajamas.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Now put on some pants and get some sleep. Long day tomorrow."

"Yeah. Tomorrow's your birthday, Babe. I will definitely be returning the favor."

"That better be a guaranteed promise, Whitlock."

"All my promises are guaranteed, Bella," he says softly, leaning forward to kiss me lightly, slowly.

"I know," I whisper when he lays his head back down. "I believe you."

"You better."

I spend the night with my head on his chest, my arm thrown across him, my legs tangled with his, my breaths matching his own. It's foreign to me, having someone sleeping in my bed. Oh, I've slept in a bed with a guy - Paul used to like me to stay a while, you know, _after_ - but he never stayed here. Even _my_ liberal-minded parents wouldn't allow someone they hated that much to stay over with me. But Jasper in my bed all night? It's new and a little uncomfortable, too warm, crowded. But I wake up thinking that this is how I want it to be all the time.

I also wake up thinking I wish whoever is banging on my door would cut it out.

"Bells!" Bang, bang. "Bells!" Bang, bang. "Dad says to get J's ass up! We're leaving in less than an hour!"

Jake. Why is he so very loud all the time? Like, really, all of the time!

"Oh. And happy birthday!"

"Thank you for the afterthought, Jake!" I yell as I roll away from Jas to face the door.

"No prob!"

"Why the hell is everyone yelling?" Jas mumbles sleepily. He sounds groggy and grumpy, but he rolls onto his side behind me and grabs me around the waist, pulling me toward him. I like spooning. He's a very good spooner. He's also still very naked. Awesome.

"You have to get up," I tell him, hoping he won't.

"Don't wanna. Gonna stay right here. With you. We can spend your birthday in bed." Not going to lie; that makes me smile, especially when he leans into my neck, nuzzling. He's a good nuzzler, too. A good, spooning, naked nuzzler.

"Jas, you need to get showered and dressed, baby."

"Can't you get undressed and we'll shower together?" he suggests as I peek at my alarm clock. Even earlier than I thought. Dad must be chomping at the bit to catch every single fish in the Pacific Northwest today.

"As much as I like that idea, I think not. We just don't have time, Jasper. We _have _only been together a week - don't piss my dad off already. He hates to be kept waiting. It's a cop thing, I think."

This makes him roll me over toward him, leaning on his elbow as he looks down at me, a look of resigned disbelief on his face.

"Jesus, Babe. I'm lying naked in his teenage daughter's bed after having spent the night - and gettin' the most incredible head ever, by the way - and me makin' him _wait_ is what's gonna piss him off? People would never believe me if I told them this shit. Never," he says shaking his head, close enough to me that his hair is brushing my face. "And happy birthday, Babe. You are definitely not an afterthought to me."

He kisses me fast and hard and jumps out of bed, heading for my bathroom, his gloriously obvious morning wood leading the way. I can only think _what a waste. _Well, I thought I only thought it.

"You're the one who said we don't have time," he calls out toward my suddenly lonely bed. I swear I can hear the smirk.

By the time Jas makes his way out of my bathroom, playing hell with my resolve to not jump his bones by wearing those fuck hot low-slung jeans he favors, I've pulled on some sweats and a hoodie, throwing my hair in a messy knot. All kinds of sexy, right? I head downstairs to the kitchen with him, hoping to have a cup of coffee with him, Dad, and the boys.

"Happy biiiiirthdayyyy to you," they croon; Dad, Jake and Seth. "Happy biiiiirthdayyyy to youuuuuu," not a tune held between them. "Happy biiiiiiirthdayyyyyy, dear Belllaaaaaaaa," warbling with sincerity, the three of them. "Happyyyyyy biiiiirthdayyyyyy tooooooo youuuuuuuuu!" Three part disharmony while wearing pink party hats. Thank God Mom is up and has the presence of mind to take pictures. I never, never want to forget this.

I launch myself first at my brothers, the best gifts ever given to me, the first people I ever _chose_ to love.

"Thanks, guys. That was disturbingly beautiful," I sniffle, refusing to admit even to myself that I might possibly kind of be tearing up a little. I hold them both in a hug, wedged in between them, one arm slung around each of their necks. "Love you."

"Gosh, Bella. Emotional in your old age?" asks Jake. His attempt at nonchalance might be more believable if he wasn't currently clutching me as tightly as I am clutching him.

"Love you, too, Bells," says my Seth, very quietly, his voice the only small thing about him.

Dad next. Throwing my arms around his waist, I hang on tight as he bends backwards, lifting my feet off the ground.

"Thank you, Daddy," says the little girl inside who will always be his vision of me.

"Happy birthday, Bells."

Sappy time over, my four favorite boys all grab the jelly slathered toast my mom has prepared for breakfast and rush out the door. Jake and Seth toss their party hats and bolt for my dad's truck before Dad has a chance to force them into the squad car. No. Just no. All of us kids refuse that particular embarrassment. Don't really think they were in much danger; the truck is suspiciously full of fishing gear. Dad and Jas are close on the boys' heels when they simultaneously realize they are about to create great heaping piles of trouble for themselves, turn in comical unison, and walk quickly back to their women. Jas and I pretend not to notice Mom and Dad smooching as he plants one on me. Pretty sure they're blocking us out, too. Kissy time over, they bang out the door, jump into the truck, and speed toward the beach to fish. I mean, set up my picnic.

"Mom?'

"Yes, Isabella?"

"Dad was still wearing the pink hat," I say with a completely straight face.

"Yes, dear. I know. But he doesn't!" She breaks into rich, deep, loud belly laughs, and I can't help but join in. Poor Dad.

"We're so mean," I say, wiping tears from my eyes.

"Bella, happy birthday." She reaches out and grabs hold of me, clutching me tightly but tenderly in the type of hug only your mom can give. "I can't believe your age has finally caught up with your mind. You've always been such a responsible adult, more so as a child than many grown ups I know. Certainly more responsible than I was at your age. I'm so proud of you, baby, even if I don't tell you often enough." She kisses my cheek and lets me go, wiping her eyes.

"Thanks, Mom. And stop it. No more crying or mush. I can't handle any more." We both grab a cup of coffee and sit down at the table.

"Ok. So. How was your night?" she asks with a twinkle in her eye.

"Nope. Not discussing that, either. Um, do I need to worry about Jasper being alone in a relatively secluded area with Dad and the boys this morning?" I can feel my forehead crinkling in concern.

"No, Bella. Calm down. Everything is fine. Your Dad knew he was staying over. He gave permission, remember?"

"Yeah. I told Jas the same thing. It's just… weird, I guess. Boys have never been off limits - thank you, by the way - but having one stay over in my room is… weird," I sigh, unable to articulate my feelings to her. "In theory, I knew it would be fine, that you guys would be fine, but…Sex has been an open topic, but having a guy stay over in my bed… I'm not surprised _you _are fine with it. I _am_ surprised _Dad_ is as cool with it as he seems to be, that's all."

"Isabella, Dad and I both still agree that the only way we learn in life is to make our own choices. That goes for you _and_ your brothers. Now that you are officially an adult, most of our power over your decisions is gone anyway. Just continue to think things through and you'll be fine. And we'll be fine, too. But don't be shocked if your dad briefly forgets that from time to time. It's a Dad thing."

"Ok. Thanks."

"Anytime. Now. What are we going to do for the next few hours?"

"I say we make some really creamy and decadent hot chocolate, grab a sinfully fluffy blanket, huddle on the couch, and watch _The Breakfast Club _followed by _Letters to Juliet. _I can't decide between the Brat Pack or a chick flick."

"Perfect," my mom smiles. "When in doubt, choose both." And we follow the plan exactly.

After our perfect morning of mother-daughter bonding, we pack up my truck and her car with presents I told them all not to get me, refrigerated side dishes packed in coolers, and a store bought cake. It's beautiful but not as yummy as one I would make, I have to say. Whatever. They won't let me bake my own birthday cake.

"Mom? I have an idea. Let me make a call before we leave."

We arrive at First Beach around 11:30 and park next to Dad's truck, still the only other vehicle in the lot. I'm trying to help Mom get the stuff out of her car before heading down to the beach. I guess I'm a little impatient to get to Jasper, as evidenced by my tapping foot.

"Bella, just go. Send the boys to help us unload," she laughs, shaking her head.

I'm doing my very best not to run. I'm trying really hard to just walk down the steps to the sand. I am unsuccessful. Running off the bottom step completely without grace, I am rewarded. There he is. Shit fuck damn, that man is fine. He is also colossally bored and in need of rescue.

"Bells! Glad you're here, honey. The guests should be arriving soon. Pull up a bit of sand and dip a line in the water until they get here," yells my dad gleefully. This is his element: sand, sea, sun, and bait.

Chuckling, I answer, "Sorry, Dad. No time. Mom needs the boys to help unload. You and Jas can keep fishing for a while, though." This draws possibly the most hostile look Jasper Whitlock has ever sent in my direction. I laugh openly. Silly Jasper.

"No, I'll help, too. Um, Chief, where do I put the pole? How..?" He's so confused. He's so adorable. I will never tell him that, but he is. I hurry over to him, taking pity on his fine ass non-fishing self.

"Give it, Jas," I snicker, taking the pole and reeling in the line.

"Oh, thank God. I have no idea how much longer I coulda taken this," he breathes gratefully as I lean the gear against Dad's tackle box. At this moment, I hear Seth's happily confused cry of _Jane_!

"Did you?" Jas asks,

"Yep. Felt like we needed one more new person this year. What the hell? Just listen how happy she makes him," I sigh.

Slipping his arms around my waist, he bends his knees and kisses me deeply. "You're amazing. Happy birthday, again, Babe."

"Jas, my father is right there," I giggle, not really caring.

"After the things that man made me do with a worm, he deserves to see me defile you thoroughly." He is totally serious.

"Well, we can be more thorough after the picnic when you whisk me away on your badass Harley and lure me into the privacy of your apartment -"

"BELLA!"

The sound of my name being screeched across the beach is followed by the sound of bare feet stomping through sand as Ali makes her hurried way to me. She's wearing shorts and a hoodie, just like me, and she's kicked her flip flops off. Temps will reach about 70 degrees today, but it's September in Forks. It's chilly.

"Happy BIRTHDAY!" she yells as she throws her arms around my neck and jerks me away from Jasper. We do that girl hug thing - you know, the jumping, swaying, hugging thing - and then I am pulled into another, less girly, hug.

"Happy birthday, Bella," says Mike, like a normal person. I have so few of those in my life.

"Thanks, guys."

Jas and Mike do their thing and go help my dad start the burgers. The grill is ready, and the food won't take long. Carlisle and Esme both kiss my cheek and wish me happy birthday before dropping a suspiciously money-envelope-looking gift onto the growing pile of gift wrapped boxes under the marquee. As I'm eyeing the totally unwarranted mountain of presents, I am lifted off my feet from behind.

"Non-Yoko! You're totally legal now, girl! Woo!"

"Well, she still can't drink, Dude."

"UB, you still look like a little girl. Get taller already."

"Happy birthday, Bella!"

"Thanks for inviting us, Bella."

I'm being passed from one set of man arms to the next, receiving a kiss from each of Jasper's friends, each one guaranteed to piss my man right the fuck off. Love these guys. But being lifted above their heads and spun like we're in the WWE is too much.

"Sketch! Brian! Put me down! Welcome, welcome. Why don't you guys go help Jas. Go meet my dad, Chief Swan. He's a cop."

"No shit?" asks Pete. "Jas grilling with the chief of police. This shit I gotta see." And with that they jog toward the smell of food. Ali and I watch them go, giggling. We fall together to the ground and wrap our arms around each other, heads resting one against the other.

"Gangs all here," Ali chirps, a little too brightly.

"No, they're not."

"I know," she responds much more subdued.

"Two of the most important aren't here," I tell her sadly.

"Two? Edward, yeah. Who's the other?"

"Em. It doesn't feel right without him, either. I mean, I'd love it if Rose could be here, too, but Em should be with us."

"You're right." I hear a sniffle and reach out to wipe Ali's cheeks as she reaches to wipe mine.

"I miss them both, Alice."

"Me, too. Em stays away far more than he has to. Ed has just removed himself completely. He's right there, one door down from my room, but it feels like he's farther away than Emmett. I hate this. I don't like change. I miss my brothers."

"Me, too."

I look over to see Jas staring at us, concern etched on his perfect face. I smile, kiss Ali on the cheek, and pull us both to our feet. This is a celebration, and I'm not going to ruin it. The burgers are done quickly and we all eat. The conversation flows smoothly and there is so much laughter that more than one piece of food is spit unintentionally. Seth and Jake feel the need to regale Jas and the boys with Bella-was-so-dumb-when-she-was-a-kid stories (thank God no training bras are mentioned). I, of course, retaliate with Seth-in-diapers stories that have Jane glowing bright red. The band shares many of what I am guessing are their tamer gig experiences.

I open my gifts, and there is much oohing and aahing. My parents give me a pair of diamond stud earrings. Mom explains that on my first adult birthday, they wanted to give me my first adult jewelry. "Important" jewelry, she calls them. My brothers pooled their money and got me two tickets to a Kings of Leon concert in Seattle next month. Golden Circle seats. Sweet. Carlisle and Esme bought me a plane ticket to New York along with tickets to the Rockettes and _The Lion King_. Looks like I'm going on the Annual Girl-Cullen Christmas Shopping Trip this year. I've always wanted to go with Ali, but it's a thing she does with her mom. This year, Esme and Mom inform me, it's a girls' weekend - all four of us. Ali gives me a black leather mini skirt and a gauzy, long-sleeved top to go with it. Jasper loves this; Dad does not. Mikey gives me perfume that I am positive Alice picked out. The guys each got me a gift card from different stores in the Angeles Mall. Totally didn't have to - they spoiled me yesterday. Jane even came up with a sweet little card with a twenty in it.

That leaves Japer's gift. I hold it in my lap, a little apprehensive. What could he possibly get me? It won't be sappy. That's just not him. Besides, we haven't been together that long.

"Gonna open it, Bells? Or you gonna guess?" Dad is looking at me weird. Better rip the paper off already.

"Oh, Jas! I love it!" It's perfect. I lean over and give him just a little smooch. A hint of things to come, so to speak.

"Yeah, well, the radio in the truck sucks. A mechanical magic trick like that truck needs a kick ass system. The better to hear my music with and stuff." Cute. He's bashful. The guys, including Seth and Jake, notice, too. He will pay hell for that little bit of public sweetness, I'm sure.

Dad, Carlisle, and all the guys start a little we-won't-tackle-too-hard football game. Yeah, right. The good citizens of Forks should probably just stay home tomorrow; their police chief and their best doctor will be kind of sore. Mom, Esme, Ali, Jane, and I start cleaning up when we hear an unexpected splash.

"Pete! Pete! Get out of the water!" At least that's what I think Jas said. He's laughing much too hard to form clearly enunciated words.

Sketch is floating, shirtless, on his back in the breaking surf, bobbing around like a whale threatening to beach itself. That in itself is quite funny, but the bandana on his head, the sunglasses on his face, and the football in his hands is a sight to see.

"J, hell, man. You said to go long! Man, it's cold in here! Why did I think this was a good idea?" Sketch pulls his shivering ass back onto the beach, spikes the ball, and stands with hands on his hips. "Touchdown. We win, Chief," he smirks merrily. "I probably should've brought a towel."

"Ali, Jane," I say, "meet Sketchy Pete."

"You were right," breathes Ali. "He has to be seen to be believed."

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! It's been difficult finding the groove.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I did own a crippling case of writer's block that made me cry, but I got rid of that shit. Thanks for sticking with me… and Jas!**

**And… Congrats to Jackson Rathbone on the birth of Monroe Jackson Rathbone VI. Let us all take a moment to pray the boy does not inherit his mother's eyebrows.**

While my mother and Esme are fussing over Sketch, supplying not one but two towels they had in their cars (It's a girl thing. Boy Scouts have nothing on us.), Angie calls spewing apologies for not showing up at the picnic. Ben had some sort of family thing in Port Angeles, she says. Really, I think her parents are out of town so she and Ben stayed home and screwed like porn stars and don't want me to know. It's what I would do. When I tell Jas why I'm giggling at her text, he agrees with me. We would so be at home. Ang makes up for the no-show by informing me that they got me the most awesome gift, in her words. The first season of _The Walking Dead _on DVD. Sweet. She also tells me she has gathered some juicy gossip on her shopping trip in Port Angeles for said awesome gift. She refuses, however, to spill until we are face to face. Must be good.

Jas and I take each other's hand and make our way a little down beach to a log left over from the bonfire last weekend. We settle on the sand, him leaning back against the log, me leaning back against him. I rest on his strong chest, cuddling into his embrace as he brings his arms around my waist, hands caressing my stomach under my hoodie. He moves my hair aside with his chin and begins to lightly kiss my neck, just small pecks, enough to let me know he's here, enough to remind me he wants to be here, enough to show me that being quietly together is good. It's not sexual - well, at least as non-sexual as we can be when we touch. It's not foreplay. It's intimacy; it's closeness; it's emotion; it's promise. It's interrupted.

"Ain't this cozy?" Sketch trills. Like a girl.

"Peter, what the hell?" Jasper huffs in frustration, squinting his eyes and wrinkling his forehead. He lifts his head but doesn't release me. In fact, he pulls me closer, not willing to relinquish the moment.

"Sorry, sorry," Pete says, hands held up in defense and apology. "I hafta go. It's been a trip, UB. Your Dad is badass, and your Mom is hot. Explains a whole hell of a lot about you. Your brothers scare the fuck outta me, though. At least I know J will stay in line; I think those boys could kill him."

"No shit," Jas mutters. Big ass brothers are useful, sometimes.

"Get up and give me some sugar, Bella. Time to take the children home," Sketch tells me, jerking his thumb back towards my boys.

I jump up in time to see Brian and Jeremy kissing my mother's cheeks, Larry deep in conversation with Ali and Mike, and John gratefully accepting a covered plate from Esme. It's amazing how they just fit in with us. Pete, too. I could see Mom watching him indulgently all afternoon, contemplating how to adopt a fully grown, clearly insane, man. Even Jane felt like she was supposed to be here. I'm so glad. Though some were missing today, it still feels like my family is growing.

Hugging Sketch tightly, I whisper, "Thanks for coming, Pete. I'm glad you didn't think it was too lame to come to a birthday party."

"No problem, baby girl. Haven't had this kind of fun in a long time. Thanks for including me and the band of misfits. And let me tell you something," he says seriously, pulling away a little to look me in the eyes. "That little monster you call Ali is six kinds of scary. She whipped our sorry asses into shape to make your birthday special. That girl will rule the world one day."

We three laugh long and loud, but neither Jas nor I dispute his conclusion. He's totally right. Releasing Sketch, I run up to my boys, hugging and thanking and saying good bye. They're soon gone, headed home to Port Angeles to get into untold trouble since band practice has been cancelled due to their lead guitarist's girlfriend's birthday. You're welcome, guys.

"Bella." Esme timidly calls me. Timid is not her usual attitude.

"Esme? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, dear," she says quietly as she hugs me tenderly. "I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me? Why? I should still be thanking you and Carlisle. That trip is a dream come true, Esme!"

"No need, Bella. We love you like our own. You know that," she tells me sweetly as Carlisle walks over to slide his arm around her waist. Sometimes I'm really jealous of Esme Cullen, folks.

"We just wanted to thank you for not letting whatever is going on between you and Edward affect your relationship with us, Alice, or even Emmett, for that matter," Carlisle adds.

I notice out the corner of my eye that Jas can hear this conversation, but I realize he won't step in. He is listening intently, though. How can I be completely honest with my second parents but also not hurt my boyfriend? Well, honest is all I can be, and all he'll appreciate, anyway.

"You will all always be my family. All of you. Edward and I can't really see eye to eye right now, but that doesn't erase a lifetime. I love all of you. Please don't let an argument make you doubt how much I love you both. As for Ali and Em? Do you think I could get rid of either of them? Even if I wanted to?" I laugh just a little at that, but I am still looking very seriously at my Cullen Mom and Dad. I can't bear it if they think I'm creating a distance. They are just too important to me.

Esme hugs me again, tighter, relieved of a burden I am sorry I laid on her shoulders. "We feel the same way, Isabella. We love you very much."

As Esme rushes to Mom to say a final goodbye, Carlisle pulls me into his side for a very appropriate (damn it) hug, saying, "Thank you for that. She's been upset over our son's stupidity."

I pull away (only slightly, though. Damn, he's built. I can feel the muscles in his arm around me. Huh? Oh, right. Father-figure), look up into his face. "Carlisle, Edward…"

"It's all right, Bella. We know he's struggling. This mess he's created with you is just one more thing. We're not sure exactly what's going on. We're trying to help, but until he lets us… Well, we're still trying."

"I'm sorry, Carlisle." I feel so guilty. What did I miss? Why didn't I help before it got this bad? I feel like I let my friend down.

"No, Bella. I can see the wheels turning in your head. He's made his own decisions. Now, enough about that. It isn't a sad day, you know. Our Bella is all grown up!" Is it wrong that his saying that made me giddy? Yeah, I know. So wrong. "And that young man of yours is a nice kid."

"Thanks, Carlisle. He really is, you know."

"He's also been very patient today. His tolerance is wearing thin, though. Go get him and have a wonderful evening." With that, he kisses my cheek (sigh), gives me a squeeze and is gone.

I turn to fully face my fine ass man to see him smirking and shaking his head. He rubs his face and runs his hands through his hair, a move I've come to recognize as his frustrated-thinking-confused move. He puts his hands on his hips in the most un-feminine stance I have ever seen while he stares at me as if making a decision, then drops his arms and takes the first step of a short walk towards me that turns my insides all warm. Sweet Jesus.

Taking me in his arms a little possessively, he whispers, "He's right, you know. Edward's your friend; I get that. But he's calling his own plays here. None of what is going on with him is on you, Babe. Ok?"

"Yeah," I say softly.

"Yeah?" he asks as he holds my chin up to look in my eyes.

"Yeah," I say with more conviction. He's right. He and Carlisle both are.

"Good. Now. About that hug with Papa Cullen. I liked the old dude., but no more of that. You were drooling."

"No, huh uh, nope. No drooling. Like a dad," I sputter. Jas is not falling for that shit.

"Drooling, Babe. It was uncomfortable." Can't tell if he's serious. Panic.

"Ali is in hero-worship-lust with Charlie!" I blurt out. Deflect, deflect!

He huffs out so much air, a sigh so forceful, that I have just a moment of fear that he may actually pass out. Pulling me tighter and fighting a groaning laugh, he responds to my revelation, "Oh my fuckin' God, Bella. That did not help at all. Shit, I never know what you're going to say. Ever."

"Keeps shit interesting, though."

"No doubt, Babe. You about ready to head out?"

"Yeah. Let's tell them we're ready. We can help take some stuff back in the truck then pick up your bike. Or do you want me to drive my truck? Or you take the bike, and I take the truck?"

"Bella, why are you nervous? We'll take the bike then I'll bring you home. Calm down."

"Sorry. I forget sometimes that we haven't been together long. Everything usually feels so easy, and then I suddenly realize we're still just learning how we do things, you know, together. Ahhhhhh," I groan. "I just want to be sure I'm reading things right."

"You are. Today, I take care of you, and that means chauffer duty. And I'll tell you what. I'll get Jake to put your new system in the truck while we're gone. Sound good?"

"Yes. Ok. Let's go."

We offer to help with what's left of the clean up and are told they really only need us to drop stuff off. When Dad tells us he'll see us tomorrow, Jas manages to not swallow his tongue. His raised eyebrows amuse my mother, though. Wow. My first sanctioned overnight with a boyfriend. I mean, I stayed with Paul, of course, but not with prior parental knowledge and permission. My life rocks.

As my loaded down truck is headed off the reservation toward home, I sit in anticipation of the mild freak-out I'm sure he's going to have.

"What the fuck?" he barks out, laughing in disbelief.

"Spit it out, baby."

"Did your Dad just give me permission to do what I fully intended on doing anyway? Permission? For you to stay with me tonight?"

"Jasper, you just slept in my bed last night, remember? Under his roof. He was there; he saw it. Chill."

"I know, but… Um, he would've heard… Tonight we'll be at my place, Bella."

"You're cute when you can neither think nor speak. You really are blond, huh?"

"You aren't shocked, smartass?" He cuts those blue-green eyes at me.

"Maybe I would have been if he'd said something like that before, but, with you and my legal age coming around, he's just continuing to do what he's always done, encouraging the same things for me."

"And what's that?"

"Make my own choices. Accept my own consequences. Live my own life. Be happy, really."

"Hell. Lucky me." Very pleased with his current situation, is my Jas.

"You know it," I say, giving him one of my newly mastered smirks.

We pull into my driveway and unload the back into the garage and kitchen. The boys can put it all away. All except the poles, anyway. Jasper refuses to let my father come home and see them a mess. I run upstairs to pack a bag - since I'm staying over, you know - but first I have to call Ali while Jas can't hear. I dial her number and she picks up, but she seems to forget me instantly.

"_Oh, shit, Mikey. Do that again. I liked it. It's not weird at all."_

"Ali. Can you hear me?"

"_Ali, fuck. Move over a little; the fucking gear shift hurts like a bitch."_

"Oh, hell no. Alice? Can you hear me? Stop it right now!" I just cannot listen to this. No.

"_If I could just get my knee out the window…"_

"Fuck _that_, Alice. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?" I might have just raised my voice a bit. Good thing Jas is in the garage putting away the fishing poles.

"_What was that noise? Do you hear Bella?"_

"_Ali, I know she's your best friend, but can we please do this without bringing her up? _

"_No, asshole, I really hear her. Oh no. No no no no. Did I butt dial her? Shut up. Um. Hi, Bella! What's up?"_

"No, you did not butt dial. You answered the damn phone when I called. It rang and you answered it. Then I had to listen to, to, to whatever the hell was just going on. The window, Ali? What the hell kind of shit to you guys do to get off?"

"_Well, he likes-"_

"Nevermind. Shut up. I'll talk to you pervs later."

"_No, go ahead and talk. Shit. I'll get mine later. I'm going inside."_

"Where are you? Where is Mike going?"

"_We're at his house, parked behind the garage."_

"Alice, you really are pervs."

"_No one's home, Bella."_

"Do you need to go get him?" What is she thinking? Good Lord.

"_No. I already got mine." _Well, shit.

"You're such a bitch."

"_We know this. What's up?"_

"I was just gonna gush about the fact that my dad told me and Jas he'd see us tomorrow. I'm spending the night in Port Angeles with my hot guy with my parents' permission. Top that, you deviant."

"_My parents aren't wardens, but they'd NEVER let that happen. Jealous."_

"Awesome, right? Just had to share. Jasper is freaked out. He thinks I'm chill, but it shocked me, too. I won't know how to act when I get home. 'Cause, like, they'll _know_. Not assume, not guess, but _know_. Weird."

"_Put that out of your mind. Just think of Jas and all the things you want to do to him. Feel better?"_

"Yes. Oh, and Angela has gossip but won't spill. Work on that, will you? Now go find Mike and give that boy some relief, you tease."

"_I don't tease. I extend the experience. Love you. Bye!"_

"Bye, love you." I hang up the phone wondering how either of us made it this many years on earth. Neither of us is wrapped too tight.

"Talking to Ali, Babe?" I hear from my doorway.

"Yep. How'd you know?"

"Who else would you call?" he asks while wrapping me in his arms. "Ready?"

"Almost. Let me pack a bag real quick."

"Be fast. We have places to be, things to do…" He doesn't finish the thought, just winks and goes back downstairs.

I grab clothes for tomorrow, some slightly dressy clothes for tonight since he did mention dinner, some sexier things for his gig tomorrow night, my make up and toiletries, and my phone charger, throw them in a back pack, and run downstairs. Jasper is waiting at the foot of the staircase, and I jump into his arms.

"Fast enough, you sexy man?"

"No, but let's go anyway."

I snag my purple - yes, purple, shut up - helmet off the table in the foyer and reach into the hall closet to grab a surprise for my cowboy.

"Holy shit, Babe. It's even better than my fantasy," he breathes as I pull on my black, fitted, and zippered leather bike jacket. He drops the pack he took from me and pushes his hands inside the jacket before I can zip it up and pulls me close, kissing me fiercely, yanking my head back by my hair with just enough force to convey his lust and passion without hurting me. He's never kissed me harder. "Fuck. How long before your family gets home?" He can barely speak the words; his lips are skimming the skin on the racing pulse points on my throat.

"Not enough time, Jas."

"Damn it. Do you know how hard it's gonna be to ride all the way to Port Angeles, well_, hard_?" He takes a moment to, um, adjust to the situation, runs his hands over his face and faces me dead on, walking me backwards until I am pressed to the door by the full length of his hard body. "We are goin' straight to my fuckin' apartment and I am gonna fuck you against my front door the very damn second I get it closed. You will be wearing nothing but this jacket. You have any problems with that?"

"Yeah," I pant. "You are talking way too fucking much."

**A/N: I know this was filler, but I just HAD to get something on paper to break through that brick wall between my brain and this story. Feeling much less blocked now, thank God. Should not be near as long before the next update. Also, it SUCKS typing in a cast! **


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Don't hate me because I'm slow. Please? Pretty please? The first version of this chapter sucked.**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do own too much respect for you guys to publish bad writing. ;)**

My bag on my back, Jasper's hand on my thigh, we make the entirely too fucking long trip to Port Angeles in record time. I can feel the low rumbles in Jas's chest from his groans the whole way. Poor guy; I think he really was hard every single mile. My inability to control my caresses up his sides and along the back of his neck and across the expanse of his back proved unhelpful, I'm sure. Didn't stop me, though. My head has been so full of him ever since his eyes ignited at the sight of my riding jacket that I feel high. Like really fucking high on some good high-dollar shit. High like Ali and I were that time at Eric's Fourth of July party when we almost did that thing we must never, never tell Mikey about. He is the inspiration for every thought, the catalyst for every movement.

"Ride faster, baby," I purr into his neck at a stop light as we make the outskirts of P.A. "I can't wait much longer."

"Fuck me, Babe," he growls back toward me.

"That's the plan, Jasper."

He took off so fast when the light turned green that I jerked so far back I had to fist my hands in his hoodie. My man is as eager as me. Fuck yeah.

We fly to his apartment. I have no conscious memory of removing my helmet or getting off of the bike. All I know is that at this very moment Jas has his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my ass, and my legs around his waist as he carries me up the steps to his door. The door. The mother fucking door I was fantasizing about while I was molded to his back on his sex-on-wheels motorcycle.

Pulling one hand off my ass to reach into his pocket to get his keys, Jas grunts in annoyance. Helping the boy out, I grab them from his hand and have him turn just enough for me to unlock the damn door, for God's sake! Once inside, I pitch the keys to who-knows-where, Jas kicks the door closed, and I am slammed against it. Finally.

"Bella, do you remember what I told you was going to happen when I got you here?" Jas growled at me. A predator making good on a promise of danger.

"It's all I've thought about."

Lowering me to my feet, he purrs in my ear, "Get undressed. Leave. The jacket. On."

He steps back only far enough for us to move. Arms and legs in every direction as we strip ourselves of shirts, jeans, shoes. He pulls a condom seemingly out of thin air. I have to remove the jacket to get my shirt and bra off and am a little flustered at the look of warning in his eyes. So domineering. So feral. So fucking hot.

"It's going right back on, baby," I whisper.

"Damn right it is."

No sooner is the black leather back on my naked body than Jas grabs the collar and shoves me against the door again. I try to raise myself to indicate I want to be wrapped around _his_ naked, muscular, tatted-up body, but he stills my movements.

"Slow your roll, Babe," he whispers in my ear, licking the spot behind it. "I got this."

And oh, holy fuck, does he ever.

One arm on the door beside my head - reminding me of the night we met – and the other hand gripping my jaw, he kisses me almost violently, painfully. The only control here is the control he has over me. This is not going to be gentle, and that thought only gets me hotter. The kisses move from my mouth to my neck with a stray nibble and bite added whenever he feels the need on the path to my collar bone. The hand leaving my jaw stops briefly around my neck, making me nervous, before moving on to grip my hair.

He presses his long, tight frame against me, all of me; I'm covered, hidden by him entirely. I'm engulfed in mind and body by this man. All I can see and smell is him. All I can taste and feel is him. The sounds of my own breathing, panting, are drowned out by the sounds of his own. Jasper. It's all Jasper.

Both of his hands are moving down my body; my shoulders and chest gaining calloused attention before he reaches my breasts, squeezing, pinching, molding. Fingers are joined by tongue and teeth. Mother fucking lip ring making me crazy, and he knows it. I hang on to him, hands in his hair, trying hard to be still like I think he wants from me, unable to stop the arch in my back. His hands again traveling downward, resting on my hips as his tongue follows the fall along my skin, his legs carrying him in concert. A kiss on my stomach, a teasing lick of my belly button has me gasping for air, moaning for more. More _what_ I don't know. But he does.

Hands moving to grip my ass, he continues to lower himself, his mouth. Oh my God, his tongue against me, touching me where I need him the most right now, tasting that part of me that is aching for him. Riley never got far enough to consider doing this. Paul was always too selfish to think I might want him to do this. Jas is the first.

"Oh, God, Jas!" My knees go weak as he looks up at me and grins, like he can think of nowhere better to be, nothing he'd rather be doing than going down on his girlfriend. Fuck, I feel the same way. Nowhere I'd rather he be. This sensation is so new, I wonder if it's so amazing because it's unfamiliar, or if he's just good at everything. I'm betting he's just this fucking good. He plays each note of pleasure to maximum effect, and in no time I feel myself reaching the end of my tolerance. Writhing against the door, against him, against all efforts to make this last, I pull his hair and scream, "Fuck, Jas! I'm coming, baby!"

He surprises me again when he thrusts two fingers inside me, using them together with his tongue to make me insane. I'm on just this side of rapture when he suddenly nips the crazy-sensitive nub that forcefully sends me over the edge. I'm not sure I've ever made the sounds before that I am making right now. Not exactly sure what I'd call them if asked. Moans? Groans? Screams of undiluted pleasure? A combination of the three, most likely.

I don't really have too much time to contemplate that incredibly inane thought before Jas grasps the backs of my thighs and yanks them around his waist. Lifting me up quickly, he enters me before the last of the fuckawesome orgasm shudders have subsided. Fuck me, I'm going to die from the feel of him. He feels SO damn good.

"Damn, Babe. You feel so good," Jas growls against my throat, placing hard, wet kisses there. Great minds and all that, right?

His grip tightens even more, holding higher on my hips, as he bangs me time and time again into the door behind me, sweat causing him to occasionally lose his hold. My shaking arms move over his shoulders allowing me to hold him to me, as well as help him hold me up. The leather on my back creaks as it meets the wood and cracks as I tighten my hold around his neck. I want to kiss him, bite him, _something_, but I can't stop gulping air into my lungs.

"Babe, shit, I'm almost there. Are you..? Can you..? Fuck!" He's unraveling and so am I. He slams into me harder, more erratically, a grunt accompanying every act of forward motion.

I feel it then, feel it AGAIN, and fall apart around him, barely able to keep my legs around him. With one last powerful thrust, he releases a roar that might or might not have made me come again. It's hard to tell; I haven't come down completely from the one before it yet. My legs are shaking uncontrollably, and Jas lowers me to the floor, easing out of me as he also gives in to the wobble in his knees.

"You ok, Babe?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

"I did warn you," he reminds me with a self-satisfied smirk. Always the smirk. Lord help me, I lust that smirk.

"I love it that you keep your promises, Jas," I breathe, far too exhausted to make any real sounds.

He smiles and leans in to kiss me quickly before shutting himself in the bathroom for a minute. I am too boneless to move, so I am in the same position he left me in (Except for the jacket; that shit had to go.) when he returns in all his naked glory. He pulls me up and settles us on the couch, covering us with a scratchy, obviously handmade afghan.

"Babe, I don't mind using a rubber. At all. But have you thought about-"

"The pill? The shot? Yeah, I've given it some thought. But before you throw away the 'rubbers' – crass, Jasper – we need to get tested. It's not that I don't trust you, but…" Not sure how to finish that statement. My parents told me about how when they were kids the whole safe sex thing became a question of life and death rather than parenthood. I can't imagine NOT having the fear of HIV. I do trust Jasper's word, but what if he doesn't realize he has a problem? I am so surprised he's thinking this way, though. In a good way. He's thinking long term and being completely open and honest.

"No, I get that, Bella. Really. I just, I mean, since we're exclusive, you know. Have you ever been with someone without a rub-, uh, condom?"

"God, no. You?"

"No. Well, not that I know of. Can't really promise I didn't slip when I was fucked up. I've been tested more than once, though, in the system. I'm clean, but I don't mind doing it again for you."

"'Kay. Let me work on my part of this."

"Why aren't you already on birth control, though? I'd have thought you'd have taken charge of this yourself. You're so in control."

"Before Paul, there was no need, and he said the pill would make me fat. He didn't want a fat girlfriend."

"Asshole. And stupid, too," Jas snarled.

"For more than that reason. For now, though, enough of the serious shit. Are you still taking me out for my birthday, boyfriend?" I sound so giddy right now. Ali would be proud.

"Yes, girlfriend. I made reservations at The Three Crabs," he smiles.

"No fucking way!" I'm so excited by this that I jump up from the couch and squeal like a preteen fangirl seeing Robert Pattinson walking through the halls of her middle school. The Three Crabs is an Olympic Peninsula institution.

"Go get your naked ass dressed, Babe. We got us some shellfish to scarf."

He looks so damn pleased with himself that I just can't help folding myself in his lap to kiss him silly. He responds with a resounding smack to my ass.

"Bella, if you want to make it out of the apartment, you will just go get dressed."

"Ok, Jas. I'm so excited! I love me some Three Crabs!" I yell excitedly as I prance my ass into the bedroom after snatching up my bag from where he pitched when we made it in the door. Now that I know where we're going, it makes choosing an outfit a little easier. I skip – skip! - into the shower with my hair in a knot on my head to keep it dry. Never telling Jas that secret; he's such a guy. Throwing on the white and silver jewel-neck sundress Ali gave me from her last shopping trip to WhiteHouse/BlackMarket in Seattle, I decide since The Three Crabs is casual enough to get away with it, I'll tie on my black Chucks, as well. Back in the bathroom, staring at my hair as I put on fresh make up, heavy on the black eyeliner, I wonder if my dress is the best choice. Pulling my hair in a high ponytail but keeping it helmet friendly, a thought occurs.

"Jas?"

"Yeah, Babe?" I smile. I so love that he calls me that.

"Are we taking your bike?"

"Uh, no, actually. I thought we'd ride over to the garage and get my truck."

"You have a truck?" I ask rounding the corner, fastening my black hoop earrings. As I snap on my black leather cuff, Jas lets out a low whistle.

"Damn."

"Thanks, Jasper. So? A truck?" I'm afraid I might have to snap my fingers to get him thinking again.

"What? Yeah. Even I don't like ridin' a motorcycle in the cold winter rains, Babe. I keep my truck at the garage because parkin' is hard to come by on this street."

"Cool. Ready to go, Cowboy? I'm ready to see that truck. Do you have a gun rack?"

I walk by him on my way across the room to pick up my bike jacket from the floor where I left it after being thoroughly fucked by my hot ass boyfriend. Sliding it over my exposed arms, I see that his eyes are locked on me as I look him up and down. Slowly. Alice being my best friend and personal fashion guru, of course, I know exactly what he's wearing. First I see a well-worn but not ratty pair of sneakers, then a pair of dark wash Levi's 514's, and I like them. A lot. Moving my eyes up from the most impressively filled out jeans, I see a longish black t-shirt under an open, rolled-sleeved red, black, and white bold plaid Tommy Hilfiger button up. My boy cleans up nice.

"I don't need a gun rack, Babe. I can handle my shit without weapons."

"Don't I know it."

"C'mon," he says, slipping an arm around my shoulders. "Let's go before we don't."

Settling on the bike, Jas makes sure my dress doesn't slide too far up, and we make the ten minute journey to Pete's garage. Helping me off the bike, he leads me to a shiny black 2008 Ford F-150. Yeah, I know what it is. Brothers.

"Hop in, Babe. We need to get going."

"Nice truck," I tell him when he hops in and starts the engine.

"Thanks," he says, cutting his eyes toward me.

We hold hands for the twenty-five minute drive from Port Angeles through Sequim to Dungeness, and pull up to my favorite seafood place. The Three Crabs is a beachfront restaurant serving all the best that the Pacific Northwest has to offer.

"Is your mouth actually watering, Bella?" he laughs.

"Well, yeah. But not just because of the awesome food. You smell great, Jas," I purr, pulling myself across the bench seat to run my nose along his stubbly chin.

"Hungry, Babe?" he grinds out.

"Always hungry for you. And for crab cakes! Let's go!"

Seated quickly at a water view table, we agree on a bucket of littleneck clams for an appetizer. Jas has a local brew, and I order a Diet Coke.

"I'd rather have a beer, too," I grumble, shucking another clam, downing it with a satisfied moan.

"Holy hell, Bella. Keep making those noises while you eat and I'll have to take us back to the truck."

"Sorry, Jasper," I grin sheepishly.

"No, you're not." He's right. "I've got beer at home if you want it when we get back."

"Thanks. But you know you don't have to get me drunk." He just smirks.

After MUCH debate, and a little impatience from Jas at my inability to make a damn decision, I order Dungeness Crab Cakes with French fries and a green salad. Jasper, ever the guy, gets Surf and Turf: steak and prawns with sweet potato fries.

We talk easily throughout dinner. We rehash the picnic, Jas teasing me about "Papa Cullen" and my desperate outing of Ali and her Charlie-lust. I feel my eyes sparkle as I tell him how much my parents' gift of jewelry means to me. He expresses a little surprise at his boys' going all out for me over the course of the past two days. I do, too. I gush enthusiastically about my upcoming trip to New York.

Reaching over to steal a sweet potato fry, which are awesome, I look at him closely.

"What's that face?"

"What face?" he asks innocently. He tries it out, anyway. He so can't do innocent.

Heavy sigh. Raised brow. Resigned expression. "I just think an all-expense paid trip to New York is a little extravagant, is all."

"Not from the Cullens. They have more money than God, and they like to share it with the people they love. They love me."

"It's that simple?" he asks, a bit disbelieving.

"Yes. It's that simple." I don't like having to defend them. "What don't you trust about them, Jasper? You don't know them."

"I know Edward," he flatly states.

"You know Emmett, too. And Alice." I feel the muscles in face tightening.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I don't exactly think clearly when it comes to Ed-, him," he admits, leaning back in his chair.

"You know I think of them as family. That's all it is, Jas. Just a gift to someone they love. Carlisle and Esme are always this generous. Really. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch about. You can't let Ed loose in your head."

"Ok."

"Now, stop trying to fuck up our night. This day has been perfect so far, what with gifts and picnics and doors and such," I smile wickedly.

"I promise. No more fucking up. How could I? I'm out with my gorgeous, snarky, funny, genius, sexy, _legal_ girlfriend."

"Psh. The things you say, Cowboy."

"Happy birthday, Babe."

Jas handles the bill, and we walk a little way to the water. Under the stars, beside the breaking ocean, Jas kisses me. It's the best birthday ever.

**A/N: Thanks for all the love and reviews! **

**The Three Crabs is real. The menu looks amazing.**

**I had a couple of links to Bella's outfit up here that didn't work. I'll put them back if I can get them to do what I want. Thanks for letting me know!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Took forever, as usual, but I like this one.**

**Hugs to each and every single one of you who reviews. They calm my insecurities and nudge me along.**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do own a fresh, clean, unblemished grade book. School starts soon!**

"Babe? What the hell are you doing?" Jas asks, exiting the bathroom in nothing but a towel after his shower.

Looking at the notebooks, paper, pens, and highlighters strewn across the bed around me, I'm not exactly sure why he's confused. Isn't it obvious? "Uh, lists?"

"I feel like there is a silent 'duh' hidden in there somewhere, Bella," Jas deadpans.

"Maybe," I snark at him with an eye roll. "I told you I'm not well. It's been a busy day, and I'm jonesing for some clarity. I have to organize gifts, who they're from, yesterday's presents at school, a doctor's appointment and all the things that go along with _that_, not to mention all I have to get done for my trip in December, then tomorrow-"

"Can it wait until tomorrow, this clarity? I'm ready for bed. And just where did all this stuff come from, anyway?"

"Do you think I could really come here overnight without my supplies?" I giggle. He really has no clue how compulsive this particular disorder is for me.

"You take all this with you when you stay at Ali's?" he questions, looking at the seemingly random collection of listing necessities.

"No, dumbass. I have an extensive stash there." It's harder to hold back the "duh" this time.

"Of course you do."

"Let me finish the one I started already, and then I'll put it all away – until I wake up in the morning. I won't be able to function unless I write some of this down. It really does calm my thoughts, Jas."

"Ok. No judgment here. I play my acoustic when my head gets too busy."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I've ended up writing more than a few songs that way. I start off strummin' aimlessly, then all of a sudden, the sounds make sense and my frame of mind is a lot more chill than it was when I started. So I get it. It's a focus thing."

I push all my shit off the side of the bed and launch myself at the towel clad fucker standing next to it. He nearly falls but angles us so we land in a tangled heap back on the bed. He's on his back with me straddling his waist. He made sure to break my fall, always protective. Kissing him stupid seems like a really good idea, so that's what I'm doing. Always listen to that inner voice, right?

Breaking away for a breath, he asks, "Not that I'm complaining, but where did that come from?"

"Not telling; it's so cliché."

"What is it? Now I have to know," he teases, kissing me again quickly.

"You so get me, Jas. Most people think the lists are a sure sign of illness. Except Ali, but she wears a hat to bed, so she can't really talk. It's silly, but it's important to me that you understand the little things."

"We all have our shit, Babe. She really wears a hat?" he chuckles.

"Yeah. Her head gets cold."

"Right."

"Don't tease her; she gets enough of that from Seth."

"I promise. Still need to finish that list?" he asks, running his hands up my sides.

"Well, what else did you have in mind?"

Rolling me onto my back, he quickly lays his weight over my suddenly tingling body. As he plays with the hem of the Pete's Garage t-shirt I pulled on to sleep in, I realize the only other item I'm wearing is a pair of panties. Shouldn't be too difficult to get rid of those if his thoughts are running the same way mine are.

"I was thinkin' I'd get rid of this towel, and we could end the your birthday loud, hot, and sweaty." Yep. We're on the same track.

"I guess," I say, sighing dramatically. "Do your worst, Jasper."

"No, Babe. I always do my best."

"Don't I know it," I tell him as I snag the edge of his towel and whip it off. "Ta da!"

"Nice trick. So talented. A magician at your birthday, huh? What else can you do?"

"I can make my clothes disappear. I just need a volunteer," I tease, smiling up at his playfully flashing eyes.

"Oooh, pick me, pick me!" he whines endearingly, wiggling over me.

"Every time, Jasper. I can't help but pick you."

"Bella, damn. It makes me very happy that you picked me, baby," he murmurs against my lips. He's not quite kissing me, not yet. His eyes are so intense.

Still only staring, he pushes himself back onto his knees. My breathing picks up at the first graze of his fingertips along my stomach. His t-shirt has ridden up my body with his movements, and he takes full advantage of the newly exposed skin. His hands move slowly, so slowly upward, pushing the shirt higher. A soft moan hitches in my throat when reaches my breasts, palming them, kneading them, needing them. The shirt is raised over my head, and he uses the forward motion as an excuse, or a reason, to bend to me, replacing his hands with his mouth.

I finally discard his borrowed shirt myself. Jas seizes the opportunity to wrap his arms securely around my middle, raising me slightly, as his mouth at long last claims mine. I'm dazed by him already, smoldering, and all he's done is take off my fucking shirt. I may spontaneously combust we he gets around to taking off my panties. Dragging his hands from my back to my sides, he moves them steadily down. He never breaks progress, snagging my panties with his thumbs along the way. Once they've cleared my toes, leaving me naked, he smiles.

"Ta da," I whisper. "Let's hear it for my lovely assistant."

"Well, thanks. But now I'd like to share some of the tricks I have up _my_ sleeve."

"But, Jas, you don't have any sleeves," I giggle. Playful Jasper is just as sexy as Biker Jas. And Napping Jas. And Protective Jas. Damn, he's fucking sexy.

"Hell. Guess my intentions are pretty obvious then."

"And I have no objections. Show me your tricks, baby," I purr. Or, at least I was going for a purr. Jasper didn't laugh, so I must have gotten pretty close. Well, that or he is already lost in the hey-we're-getting-ready-to-have-sex-vibe of the moment.

I decide I really don't fucking care one way or the other when he covers me with the full weight of his body. I love it when he does that. I feel safe, protected, comforted, wanted, desired. Slow, languid kisses are rained downed on my mouth, neck, shoulders, collar bones, breasts. He's taking his time with this lavish display of care and craving. I'm starting to work out his sexual motivations. Earlier today was animal, just fast and furious and oh so fucking hot. Now he's the generous lover, soft and sensual and oh so fucking sexy. My mind wonders for just a split second, that fleeting moment before the nearness of Jasper steals all reason, if the lover shows himself to make up for the animal. I wish I was bold enough to tell him I want them both. Whatever. As long as I get to see them both on a regular basis, I'm good.

Waking up to my badass boyfriend wrapped up around me is something I hope I get to experience often, as well. It's nice; I like it. After the lover slept for an hour and a half, the animal woke me back up. No complaints, but I feel a bit twingy in the vajayjay region. Definite benefit to staying over, though. Also, I get to stare at him uninterrupted. He looks so young like this, angelic until you look lower – which I do – and see the ink. But the tattoos tell his story much better than the sweet little boy, sleepy face. I kiss the Chinese characters, which he explained meant 'Truth' and 'Strength' and 'Family', on his ribs as I slip out of bed just so I can watch him wiggle. Killing me with those abs. Pulling on the Pete's Garage t-shirt that I will henceforth claim as my own, I leave the bedroom.

It's only six in the morning, but I am frankly surprised it took this long for my subconscious to wake me the hell up to organize my shit. Must. Think. Clearly. My mind is buzzing. It's been longer than usual since I last set my head in order. But first, coffee. I slip on my iPod, blast my "Old Songs I Love Too Much" playlist, and get my morning started. By 6:30, I have my papers organized on the kitchen table, the coffee is made and is winding its way through my body at an almost acceptable speed, and I am holding a spatula, dancing around in a t-shirt and panties, having decided to cook since my stomach is trying to eat itself from the inside. Don't you love it when you are so wrapped up in a song that you're too busy moving like an emo-hippie hybrid to notice when someone walks into the room and you get caught? Yeah, me neither.

He's not laughing, at least. That smirk is the devil, though. He stands there, all hot, leaning in the archway leading to the kitchen, legs and arms crossed. I forget completely that I should be a little embarrassed since I all can think about are the low slung jeans hanging off his hips. _I'm lost…_ tattoo flashing me. His tussled hair is perfectly framing the image of his teeth tugging at the lip ring.

"What are you listenin' to that has you so energetic this mornin', Babe?"

"Huh?" I am an incredible conversationalist. I pop out an ear bud. Maybe that will help me focus. I heard him the first time, but thoughts no translate good to mouth hole this early.

"What are you listenin' to? You look really happy," he says through a real smile.

"Well, that's ironic. It's Joy Division. 'Love Will Tear Us Apart'. I don't think Ian Curtis was_ ever_ happy."

"You really like him, I guess. I remember the t-shirt you wore."

"He moves me. He led the way, Jas. Braved the dark post-punk jungle that hindered the journey to Emo-ville and lighted the path with a half empty lighter clutched between calloused fingers and broken nails. His voice was created for sadness."

"That's poetic, Bella. You should write lyrics," he says with raised brows, apparently impressed.

"Sorry, but I don't think so. My inspiration died in 1980."

He looked down and shook his head, bemused. Raising his eyes back to me, he changes the subject. "Breakfast?"

"Hungry?"

"Fuck, yes. I somehow worked up an appetite overnight."

"Wonder how?"

"Great sex with my girlfriend." Um, gasp.

"Lucky girl."

"She cooks me bacon, too."

"Well, I guess that makes you a lucky guy."

"That's the God's honest truth, Babe."

Finished with breakfast, Jas is washing the dishes. It's just, he's so… Damn. It's just one more thing I could just sit back and happily watch him do. I situate myself and prepare to clear the cobwebs one list at a time. Jas dries his hands and starts toward the living room before turning back toward me.

"Bella?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"You_ are_ coming tonight to the gig, right? We don't normally do Sundays, but I rearranged the schedule this weekend," he says with a not-quite-innocent grin.

"Of course! I'm going to call home to check in a little bit later and let my mom know, but I'm definitely going. Remember, though, you'll have to take me home if Ali and Mike don't come."

"Ok. No problem. Good," he says with what appears to be a sigh of relief.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"No, I figured you would. It's just that it's, well, kinda different this time, you know?" I smile at his aw shucks mannerisms. He's nervous? "The first time you saw us, you didn't know me, and I thought you were just some hot piece of ass."

"Piece of ass, Jas?" Cue earnest attempt at eyebrow quirk. It's not weird. Fuck Sketchy Pete.

"Until Emmett showed up yelling at me. Then I realized I wasn't ready to let you go."

"Thank you," I whisper through a grin.

"Why?" he asks in confusion.

"That was honest, and sweet, and romantic, and asshole all wrapped into one. Only you, Jasper."

"Gosh, ma'am. We aim to please," he drawls with a wink. Oh. My. God. How could I ever have forgotten Southern Jasper?

With that he carries himself to the bedroom while I get started organizing the gifts that were given to me by all of the important people in my life. I even include the gift from Angie, though I don't have it yet. That reminds me that she hast dirt. Wonder if Ali was able to get it out of her yet. This starts a new page.

Shit to Do Today

*Check in with Mom.

*Call Ali. Angie's gossip? A & M coming to show?

*Text Em. See you tonight?

*Steam shirt for tonight.

*Pack. Don't forget CHARGERS!

*Dinner. Cook? Go out?

*Load bags in truck for trip home.

*Get a SoCo shirt!

"Do you have 'Kiss boyfriend repeatedly' on that list?" he asks from the living room.

"Not yet, but I could add it, if you want," I shout as I put my things away.

I think I've hit my wall. I can't pay attention to this while he's this close. Zipping my pack up, I walk into the next room and come face to face with one of the great sights in all Creation. Jas is sitting on the couch, bare feet crossed on the coffee table, guitar on his jean clad lap, strap resting on his black t-shirt covered chest. Smiling.

"Gonna play for me?" Please say yes.

"Gonna need that kiss first," he replies with no room for argument. Wasn't planning on it anyway.

I sprint to him, much too giddy for my rep to survive if anybody but him were to ever see it, and hop onto the couch next to him. Taking his face in my hands, I plant a big ole sloppy kiss on my man. I think it's awesome, and, by the way he is groaning just a little bit, I think he does, too.

"I like you bein' here, Babe," he murmurs against my throat, licking and nibbling in the most tantalizing way.

"I like me being here, too, but if you don't stop that, we'll end up naked again." I scold.

"And that's a bad thing because.."

"Because if we get naked again, I won't be able to sit for the better part of the day, Jas. My lady bits could use some recovery time. We've been … enthusiastic."

"Damn right." He takes one nip at my lips and begins to strum something by Damien Rice, surprising me.

"I want some merch, Jas." I inform him.

"Our stuff? Like a t-shirt?" He seems very pleased.

"Yeah, baby. Have to support my man," I smile. "I'm proud of you!"

"Aw, Babe. Say that any time you want. I'll get you a shirt when I go to the garage later."

"Practice?"

"Just a short one. We need to firm up the set list. What size do you want?"

"Small, please."

"Mkay. I'll get you a special one made up."

"Special?"

"Secret," he sings. "Anyway, if you drive me over, I'll bring the bike back so we can ride it tonight. Is that ok with you?"

It's more than ok with me. After I drop him off – and hug all my boys – I drive the truck to the grocery store I saw near the apartment. A special dinner is in order, I decide. I figure he hasn't had a home cooked Southern meal in a while, so I'm making fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy and fresh green beans. I have to draw the line at making from-scratch biscuits, though. No way I can pull that off. Pillsbury will have to do. I buy an incredibly overpriced frying pan, too, because the one he has at his place is a joke. Seriously, I laughed when I saw it. Boys.

Having already called Mom, who gave me a very long talk about nighttime road safety, and Ali, who had no Angie dirt and was definitely coming to the show, I texted Emmett. Reasonably sure he'd be up by now, I hoped for a reply. I smiled when I got one. _Me and Rose will def see u 2nite. _Shirt steamed, all but what I'll need for tonight packed and ready to go, I can now give my full attention to the ambitious-for-me meal.

Once again, he manages to sneak up on me. Just as I put the last piece of chicken on paper towels to drain the grease, I see him standing there in the archway. The smile on his face breaks my heart. I haven't seen this one before. It's soft. Almost fragile, ethereal. And I now it's just for me. And it's at this moment, with chicken breader flaked on my fingers, potato splattered on my shirt, my iPod softly playing the Cure, and the smell of cheated biscuits permeating the air, that I realize I love him. It isn't possible, it isn't time, it isn't smart, it isn't sane, but it's real. I love him, and I cooked him fried chicken. Damn straight.

**A/N: It's completely self-serving and quite presumptuous, but I started a Facebook group for this little story. Come check out Jasper's List. Comment on the story, chat with each other, rec other good Jasper fics, hang out. Hope I see you there! **

** #!/groups/163727973762771/**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: This chapter was growing and growing. Split it up, so the next chapter is half written.**

**Don't own Twilight, but I do own an alarm clock that is laughing at me **_**and**_** my summer non-schedule while it reasserts its authority.**

Jas blinks twice, and I am treated to another smile – this one I've seen. It's the boyish yet ravenous _I'm gonna get something yummy to eat _smile.

"You made fried chicken?!"

"Yeah," I force out. I am still rocked, reeling, thunderstruck, flabbergasted, stunned, and staggered by my own personal revelation.

"Why? You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"Dinner."

He laughs. Is his laugh sexier now that I know I love him? Yep. Are his eyes deeper, more expressive? Yes. Is that lip ring even more enticing, taunting me even worse with the need to bite it lightly with my teeth and tug ever so gently? Oh, yeah. No fair.

"Well, Paula Deen, what else did you make?"

"Potatoes."

"Babe, this conversation is gonna take a long-ass time if you only use one word at a time. What's wrong?" he asks as he takes a few steps toward me with concern.

And all of a sudden, I just can't fucking help myself! I pitch the tongs I was using and slam into him, rising on tippy toes to bite that mother fucking lip ring then kiss him so damn hard my teeth hurt. He's, uh, shocked but not unhappy. Turning and walking us backwards until I feel the kitchen wall behind me, he enthusiastically returns the kiss. While tugging my head back by my hair. And groping my ass. For five minutes. That worked out well.

"That was nice," he sighs. "What's up?"

"Just glad you're back," I tell him. I know what I know, but _he_ doesn't have to know it yet, you know? Clear? "Did you bring my shirt?" I ask excitedly. Act normal, Bella.

"Yep. It's in the living room. Come on," he replies with a devilish gleam, tugging me by the hand.

He snatches a black t-shirt off the arm of the couch and shows it to me quite proudly. On the front is the white outline of a guitar marked in white and red to look like a bottle of Southern Comfort, with the names of the band's two self-produced CDs in white writing. What really made him smile was what he had printed on the back, especially for me.

"It says 'GIRLFRIEND' on the back, Jas," I squeal, jumping on the balls of my feet. Fan girl moment. Should be embarrassing, but I really don't care.

"The only one like it, Babe," he smiles over at me. "Although I did have to promise the rest of the guys they could do the same thing if they ever got a woman to go out with them more than once. Do you like it?'

Running up to him I snatch the shirt out of his hands then jump up, catching my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Laughing and kissing him, I give him the only answer I can.

"I love it."

"Good. With me on stage, I had to find a way to warn all those other fuckers off somehow. No touchin' what's mine," he growls.

"Yours, huh?"

"Yes. From head to toe, inside and out, Bella." He grinds that out between gritted teeth so possessively that my body shakes. Why do I find that so sexy? And should I? I'll think about that later.

"No argument, Jas."

With a swat to my ass, he eases me to my feet. "As much as I'd like to strip your sexy self and have my dirty way with you, that chicken smells amazing. I'm starving, Babe."

"Come eat then. I made it just for you."

Jas eats three pieces of chicken, two helpings of potatoes and gravy, a very large serving of green beans, and turns his nose up in disgusted disappointment at the biscuits. The look on his face is priceless, but I feel the need to write a letter of apology to the Pillsbury Doughboy on his behalf. He sends me off to get ready while he cleans the kitchen. I think he just needs to be alone to get his game face on. I stalk out of the bedroom when I'm done, purposely planting the heels of my Bellissa style black leather Docs loudly on the hardwood floor to gain his attention.

"Holy shit," he says. Eyes wide, mouth open. Think he likes my outfit.

"Do I look ok?"

"Fuck me, Babe. The t-shirt is not gonna do a damn bit of good. I'm gonna end up killin' some poor guy tonight."

Red skinny, skinny jeans (ok, fuck it. They're jeggings.), the Docs, my "GIRLFRIEND" t-shirt knotted tightly on the side just above the waist, my leather cuff, a silver and black flower ring, and a messy up do capped off by necessarily excessive amounts of black eyeliner; it's a look.

"I'll be fine. I can do some real damage with these boots. Besides, Emmett and Rose will be with me. Ali and Mike, too."

"But still…"

"Your fine ass just needs to worry about the music. I'll be fine." He looks damn fine, too. Soft, worn jeans, rolled sleeve white button up, black vest, beaten to hell cowboy boots, red bandana in his back pocket. Mine. "Be good."

"I'll try," he grumbles.

"I'm all packed. I was going to load the truck, but since you took it to the garage, there was no need. I guess I'll have to get Mike to swing back by here on our way home," I pout. I don't want to leave.

Pulling me closer, he runs his hands around my waist, up my sides, across my ass. I feel claimed. His mouth running along my neck, he whispers, "Can't you stay? Just one more night? I can take you to school in the morning."

"Jasper. You know I can't. My parents are supercool, but they do have limits. Not clearly defined or regularly enforced ones, but limits all the same. I have to go home tonight."

"Fine. But only because your father has guns and is allowed to use them. And your brothers scare me," he says releasing me and walking around the room collecting his wallet and keys and helmets. "But you're coming back next weekend."

"We'll see."

"Mm hmm. Let's go. Get your jacket. I fuckin' love that jacket."

We roar up in front of R Bar on Front Street and immediately see Emmett and Rose. Jesus, you can't miss them; amazing creatures, these two. Jas drops me off with them to park the bike around back.

"BELLS!" Emmett yanks me off my feet into a huge bone-crushing hug as soon as the helmet is off. I'm so happy to see him again so soon. Judging by the squeezing he is inflicting upon my internal organs, I'd say he's happy to see me, too.

"Hi, Bella," Rose waves at my face, which is barely peeking over Em's shoulder.

"Hey, Rose. Can you please ask him to put me down? Breathing is fun," I gasp out.

"Emmett. Jesus. Put the girl down before you break her," she sort of mockingly scolds. Uh, oh. Trouble?

Putting me down and pouting, he takes in my appearance while answering, "I'm not gonna hurt her. Shit. I've picked her up once or twice before, Rose. Besides, she might be safer if no one can see her. Jas let you wear that?"

"Fuck you, Em," I laugh. "Jas doesn't_** let**_ me do _shit_. You should know better."

Emmett shakes his head and rolls his eyes and turns away from the both of us. Before I can ask either of them just what the hell is going on, I hear a squeal that could make dogs cry. If that noise did not, in fact, belong to one of the people I love most in this world, I would have thrown something at the bitch. But since it's Ali, I simply turn and open my arms. That is true friendship, folks.

"You look so HOT! Those boots are incredible! Aren't you glad I made you get them? Let me hear it," she shrieks with a hand cupped behind her ear.

"No, Ali," I tell her wearing my most intimidating scowl.

"Don't make that face right now. It makes me laugh. Now let me hear it, Bella!"

Sighing resignedly, I give her what she wants, as usual. "Mary Alice Cullen is the fashion genius guru supreme," I say quietly through gritted teeth.

"AND!"

"And Isabella Marie Swan should never ever doubt her sartorial prowess. There. You happy?" This phrase was created as my punishment when we were in tenth grade, and I wore a fringed suede jacket that I thought was retro and Ali thought was hideous. By the end of that school day, we both knew she was right. I have often been made to repeat it.

"Not nearly as happy as Jas must have been when he saw you," she smirks.

"Damn, Bella. Hot. A lot different from Levi's and Chucks," Mike comments then whistles. Emmett grunts.

"_What_, Em? They're tight jeans. I've worn tight jeans before!"

"Those," he points down in my general direction, "those are not jeans. Those are red panty hose. You can see your ass like you're naked."

"Sure as hell can." Just hearing his voice as he walks up behind me gives me the shivers. Turning to face Jas as he gets closer, I throw my arms around his neck for a hug. I totally get Ali's reaction to Mike after a night apart now. Hell, it's only been ten minutes, and I missed him. Palming my ass and lifting me slightly, he gives me a hard, fast kiss then looks over the top of my head as he sets me down. "Stop lookin' if it bothers you, Emmett."

"J, I'm just thinking about her in there," he says, jerking his thumb at the door and glaring at Jas.

"Well, that's what she has you for. Right, big guy? Besides, that's _my_ ass. No one but me touchin' it. Got my name on it." Ok. That was arrogant. That was on purpose. Jas is stirring him up, already wearing the swagger he uses on stage. Save me from the testosterone levels of young American adult males.

"What the_ fuck_ does he mean, Bells? Got his name on_ what_?" Emmett is livid. LIVID.

"Well, not exactly _his_ name…" I slip my jacket down quickly to show them the printing on my back. Ali squeals, Rose nods approvingly, Mikey whistles again.

"Well, hell, J. That's cool," Em concedes. He walks over to Jas and does that man hug thing and the non-situation is diffused. "Let's get inside so the girls can get a table until the show starts. When do you go on?"

"About a half hour or so," Jasper tells him as we go inside.

"What the hell was all that about?" I ask Rose when Jas and Em go to the bar to get drinks. Good. I need the alcohol.

"I wish I knew. Em's been irritated since his brother called him after your picnic. Edward laid some drunk-ass 'poor me' shit on Em, and he can't shake it."

"Shit," I groan, pressing the heels of my hands against my forehead in frustration.

"Yeah. Pretty sure it was about you," she tells me straight-faced. I'm not sure if she's pissed.

"I figured." I look her in the eyes, trying to gauge her feelings toward me. We've seemingly come a long way since our first meeting, but we are still very new to each other. Emmett and Jasper are the familiar ones for her here.

"Look, Bella," she begins, totally ignoring Ali and Mikey who are sitting at the table with us, watching the conversation like a tennis match. Complete cliché, but that's what they look like, heads swiveling back and forth and whatnot. "I don't like Emmett being tied up in knots. He's caught between the two of you, and it's just not fair to him."

"HEY! That's not fair to Be-" I knew it wouldn't take Ali long to tire of being a spectator. Before she can get any further into what would surely be a magnificent tirade on my behalf, Mikey firmly clamps a hand over her mouth, shaking his head in the negative.

With a shake of my own head, I respond to Rose, "I'm not the one putting Em in the middle. I haven't even talked to him about Ed, Rose. "

"You and Edward are making him choose, Bella." Her gaze is level. What the fuck?

"No, I'm not!"

"He feels like he has to, especially since you're with Jasper. Emmett is choosing the two of you. I just hate to see him go through all of this if you're just going to go running to Edward since he wants you now. I think that's what Emmett is most afraid of. I know you've been waiting for that for a long time, and this thing with Jasper hasn't been going on for very long."

"You're a real bitch, you know that, Rosalie?"

"What did you say?" She's indescribably shocked at that. That's fine, because I'm indescribably pissed.

"You have exactly zero understanding of my feelings for Jasper, or Edward, or even Emmett for that matter, if you think I am capable of any of the shit you're thinking. You and I, we talked about Edward. Do you remember? I've walked away from him, Rose, and it's the hardest fucking thing I've ever had to do. But, I, I've realized… I was wrong. He's not who I thought he was. He isn't who I idealized him to be. How dare you throw that pain in my face? As far as Emmett, he's always been there for us. Right, Ali?" Alice nods her head vigorously, eyes wide, Mike's hand still on her mouth. "He's the big brother my parents never gave me. I would never do anything to hurt him. Not ever." My eyes are stinging. I'm breathing hard. I'm staring her down. I'm not finished. "And Jasper," I start.

"Bella, no, really. You can stop. I'm sor-"

"Shut up," I snap. "Jasper has been nothing but wonderful to me. He's fun, and exciting, and generous, and badass, and fucking hot! And he's mine, and I made him fried chicken, so back the fuck up off me!"

"Wow. Must be pretty damn serious if you're making crispy, greasy, poultry goodness for the dude, Bella," Mikey blurts blithely.

Three seconds of deafening silence are broken when Ali, Rose, and I simultaneously burst into howling laughter. Mikey removes his hand from Ali's mouth, wiping on his shirt the spit she deposited there when her hysterics could not be contained. This is how Emmett and Jas find us when they return from the bar with our drinks. Beer for everyone but Rose and Ali, the unfortunate Designated Drivers for the evening. Rose catches my eye as I drain half my bottle and mouths _I'm sorry_ in my direction. I nod, but I'm not sure how much I mean it.

There is a general commotion behind us. I turn to see Jasper's boys making their way through the bar. They can never be quiet, can they? Always laughing, teasing, punching, whatever. I half expect to see them start tumbling all over each like puppies or a barrel of monkeys. How Jas deals with it, I'm not sure. He is so much more reserved than they are. Maybe they balance him out. I don't know. It's just nice to know that he has some silly fun in his life.

Things don't seem so fun, though, once he catches sight of an extra member of the posse. Jasper tenses visibly as he stares at a smarmy looking blond guy. Tall but too skinny, tired eighties pony tail, jittery. I don't much care for him at all.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Jas asks, standing rigid by my side, staring at Brian.

"Uh, he, uh, we ran into him…" Brian trails off nervously. I've seen Jas eyeball Brian before, but not like this, so seriously. Brian obviously notices the difference, too, and it unnerves him.

"Well, hello, J. Long time, dude." Smarmy Blond Fucker steps up to Jas casually. Like he can't see the look in my man's eyes? Yeah, right.

"By choice, James," Jas answered with a chill. Smarmy Blond Fucker is James. Whatever. I think my name fits him better.

"Chill. Damn," James says, hands up in front of him. "Just came to hear the band, man. Fuck." Taking in the table full of people next to him, SBF smiles in a way that makes Ali and me recoil. "And maybe meet a few interesting new people. Hello, ladies," he smiles at us.

Alice and I, being well brought up young ladies from a very small town, find it impossible not to respond with very quiet _hello_'s. Mike, having none of this, slides his arm tightly around Ali's shoulders and stares at James until his eyes move on from her. Damn, Mikey is all sorts of intimidating when he needs to be. I never noticed until just recently. Those beady, bloodshot, blown-out eyes now land on me.

Bending down very close to me, a hand on my arm, SBF shows me a tiny bag of something white and murmurs in what I'm sure he believes to be a sexy voice, "Hello, little girl. Want some candy?" He gets no further in his "seduction" because the next thing out of his mouth is a grunt as Jasper slams his face onto the table. He does this before Emmett can even rise from his seat. Boy is fast.

Holding James down by the back of the head, Jas informs him through gritted teeth, "You do not talk to my girl. Do not look at her. Do not fuckin' offer her 'candy'. Do not EVER fuckin' touch her. I won't tell you again. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, J," he stammers. "Shit, man, I didn't know."

"Now, you do." Jas thumps James's head into the table one more time for good measure before letting him up. Casting daggers in Brian's direction, he asks, "Did you already get what you wanted from him? You done with his ass?"

"Yeah, J. We're done."

Turning back to James, he raises an eyebrow as if he's confused to see him still standing there. "Fuck off."

Watching SBF slink away, I look up to my badass boyfriend. "Who the hell was that?"

"My dealer."

**A/N: I know, I know. Just chill… LOL**

**In Rose's case, we all know not every person we meet and like is truly our friend. Sometimes it takes more than a week to cement the bonds of trust and true friendship.**

**For Emmett, Edward is playing him. Em loves them all too much – and maybe still sees them ALL as people he needs to protect and fix things for. He's struggling.**

**Jas, well, Jas is used to doing whatever the fuck he wants and saying whatever the hell he thinks. **


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I told you to have faith… LOL Don't own Twilight, but I do own a teaching schedule that includes 19 completely insane fifth graders…**

All heads snap in Brian's direction when he speaks. He is staring at the tips of his Vans, biting his thumb nail, fervently hoping that Jas doesn't rip him a new one. Well, I'm only assuming that last part.

"Your dealer," Mikey clarifies.

"Uh, yeah. The boys and I get our weed from him," Brian says, looking up.

"And you know him, Jas?" I can't help but ask, given his reaction.

"Yeah. I, uh, used to get that and some other stuff from him, too, but not anymore. Not for a while." He leaned down to look me in the eyes, and quietly said, "We talked about this, Bella. I ain't bought nothin' hard in a long time. I'm tryin', Babe. All truth, all the time. Ok?" The South comes out thick when he's feeling nervous.

"Ok." He's given me no reason not to trust him. So, I'll trust him. Simple as that.

"I don't like him," Ali says, just in case anyone was interested. We all are. She's awesome.

"Neither do I," Jas grinds out, back to staring Brian down. "You know I told that fucker to keep his distance from me. Asshole doesn't know when to quit. I don't want to have to beat that little bitch's ass again. Why'd you bring him, Bri?"

"He was hanging outside; we just bumped into him, Jas. Really. He tagged along. It's not like we can ban him from wherever we are," he answers with a little fire. All the boys respect Jas, they even seem to defer to him a bit, and they really don't want to piss him off, but it's obvious they aren't _afraid_ of him. I guess it makes sense. You'd have to be a little badass yourself to keep up with my man. They just fade into the background for me when Jas is around, I guess, so I've never really noticed.

"All right, boys. Hell, we are supposed to be having a good time! Hot damn, UB! You're looking good tonight, baby girl. Gimme some sugar!"

Gotta love Sketchy Pete. How can I say no to that? I laugh as I get up and make my way around Jasper's still too rigid form. He doesn't stop me, but I can tell that he's not thrilled to have me move away from him just yet. I think at this moment, Sketch may be the only person he'd let get away with touching me. Smarmy Blond Fucker has him on tilt.

"Hi, Sketch," I whisper as I hug the tall, shaggy biker. "Thanks for trying to diffuse this mess."

"It _is_ getting a little uncomfortable, huh?"

"Yeah," I giggle quietly, nervously. Pete pulls back and looks me in the eye.

"You all right, UB? That junkie fucker is not right in the head. You scared?"

"No, Pete. Really, I'm fine," I tell him as he looks a little unconvinced. "I have Jas right here. He's not going to let anyone mess with me."

"Damn right," Jas barks.

"Besides, you, Emmett, and Mike are all on edge now, too. Anybody who tries to fuck with me, Ali, or Rose tonight will face a lot more resistance than they expect."

"Very true," Pete concedes and lets me go. Walking around our table then the one next to ours, he makes the rounds, sharing smiles, hugs, and good cheer all around. This in itself is hilarious to me. He looks like he's hell on wheels, like he could rip your arm off and laugh while he beats you with it, yet he goes from person to person and spouts pure silliness. Clearly insane, but I love him for it.

I feel someone walk up behind me as I watch Sketch go on his merry way. I know it's Jasper before I hear him or even smell him. I just know, even before I see the distinctive art on the arms that wrap around me.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs in my ear before he kisses it.

"Why?"

"I shouldn't have done that so close to you." I notice he doesn't say he shouldn't have done it. "You could have gotten hurt. It was instinct, Babe. That guy… well, I don't want him around you at all."

"I think he got that message," I say as I turn in his arms. I want to look at him.

"Mm hmm. Just in case he is a dumber fuck than I think, though, stay around Em or Pete, ok? Just to make me feel better. Nowhere by yourself."

"Mike's here, too."

"Yeah. I like Mike. He's cool. But Em is fuckin' huge, and Pete can fuck anybody up without breakin' a sweat or losin' his smile." I knew it. "James is a sneaky bastard who fights dirty and never gives up. Not sure Mike has dealt with someone like James before. Just humor me, Bella."

"You're serious. You really hate Smarmy Blond Fucker." Jas shakes his head with a grin.

"Everybody gets a nickname," he teases.

"Jas."

"Yeah, I hate him," he admits grudgingly. This is obviously a topic he would rather not discuss. "He made things a little too easy for me for a while. Or made shit really hard for me, depending on your point of view. It is not within a dealer's nature to assist in a good customer's process of gettin' clean."

"Oh," is my brilliant response. Way to go, Bella.

"Before Pete stepped in, James was attached to my fuckin' hip. Between Pete and the boys, I was able to get my head straight and my shit together. James has been doggin' my ass for the better part of two years. A good ass beatin' has not seemed to convince him to leave me the fuck alone. I don't like havin' him around.'

"Ok, baby. I get it."

"Good. Can we drop this for tonight, then? I'll tell you everything you want to know another time," he bargains.

"Only if you kiss me." And he does. Deeply and thoroughly and in plain sight of every other man and woman in this garishly colored bar. Just as this shit is getting good and maybe a little too hot for the eyes of an audience, I am surprised by the sound of Jeremy's voice. Surprised, because, hell, I'd forgotten they were there…

"Oh, hell."

"What now?!" Jas snaps as he faces Jeremy, letting his arms fall from me as he turns.

Then, as a group, we cringe at the sound of the most god-awful caterwauling ever heard by man or beast. Nails on a chalkboard, metal scraping metal, a teething baby, every noise ever when you're hungover, Mary Alice Cullen pissed and on speed and helium – none of these things come close to the unholy noise unleashed upon my friends and me.

"JAZZY!"

The boys vocalize their distress.

"Oh, shit."

"Damn it all."

"No fucking way."

"This should be good." Larry. Always a funny guy.

I look from the boys to my friends who are wearing what I'm sure are expressions of confusion to match my own. Cocking my gaze toward Jas, I see a look of pained anxiety and … anger?

"What the fuck_ else_?" I hear him groan. Before I have a chance to ask or say anything, some chick comes flying from the direction of the shrieking we heard a moment ago and throws her fat ass and fake boobs against my man with her hairy arms gripping him around the neck.

"JAZZY! There you are! I've been looking allll over for youuuu!"

"Oh my fuckin' God. Maria, get your drunk ass off of me!" Jas, um, excuse me, _Jazzy_, is not happy. Neither is his girlfriend.

"A friend of yours, Jas?" I ask.

"No, Babe. Definitely not. She thinks she is, but-"

"But, Jazzy! I've been in town for a whole week! A week, and I haven't seen you one. Single. Time. Where ya been, baby?"

"Oh,_ HELL_, no."

"Here we go," Mikey mutters. Only he. Ali, and Em have any real idea of what I'm capable of when faced with a true bitch. Emmett groans, and Ali bounces in her seat. Here we go, indeed.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" Miss-Bitch-Ass-Maria asks with what she must think is a condescending look on her face. Really? She just looks like she has gas to me.

"Yes, actually. It would help a whole hell of a lot if you would get the fuck off of my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend? Oh, honey. That is hysterical," she informs me. To punctuate the fact that she has found my statement humorous, she proceeds to bray like a donkey. I'm pretty sure she would say she was laughing if asked. Oh, shit. I was never _not_ going to hate her. "Jazzy doesn't do the girlfriend thing."

"That was before he met me. Get off of him, or I'll help you. Don't fuck with me."

"I don't need to fuck with _you_. I fuck_ him_ just fine."

A lot of things happen quickly. I grab Superwhore's hair and snatch her ass off of my man. Jas steps back and watches with a bemused smirk on his face. Spinning Maria to face me by the handful of long, muddy brown, curly hair I'm clasping, I lean very close to her. She's taller than me, and I don't want her to miss a word.

"Get away from me and my man, and do not make the mistake of touching him again. I don't share what's mine. I. Will. Cut. A. Bitch. Don't doubt me."

Behind me I can hear chairs being pushed back, feet shuffling, the boys howling with laughter and shouts of _aw, shit_ and _fuckin'A_ and other similarly inspiring cheers. I can see Sketch making his way back toward me from the other side of the bar, shaking his head. What I don't see is Maria's friends walking up on me. I don't need to see them though. Ali does, and she always has my back.

"OWW!"

I yank Maria's ass around with me as I whip to my left to see Ali shaking out her right hand, and a bleached blonde tweeker holding her eye while another, less pretty one, comforts her. I smile. I notice Jasper's boys covering their mouths and popping their eyes so far open I fear they may fall out. Mikey looks smug. And proud. Jas is laughing his ass off. My girl brings the fun wherever she goes.

"Oh, shit! Did the midget just fucking deck the tall one? Did anyone else see that?" John obviously cannot believe his eyes. Yes, John we all saw it.

"Ok, Ali?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Bells. Bitch was sneaking up behind you. Fuck _that_. Need any help?" she asks, eyeballing Maria.

"Nope. I got this." Turning my attention back to the bitch whose head I'm snatching bald, I ask her, "Will I need to tell you again?"

"NO, no, no. God, no. I get it. Jazzy's-"

"Don't fucking call him that," I snap.

"Right. Right. J is off limits. Totally get it. You can let me go."

"Jas? Really? This girl?" I ask as I let go of her hair. Before I can fully turn toward my smirking, smoking hot boyfriend, Maria the Skanktastically Stupid Ho Bag takes a swing at me.

Now, I cannot help it if the girl has balance issues. The fact that she is now face down on the nasty floor at my feet may not be directly related to the fact that I punched the bitch in the face. Twice. Really hard. She just might have an inherent condition that prevents her from remaining upright. Some inner ear malfunction or some shit like that. Being vertically challenged is a sad affliction. It's possible.

"Damn, Babe. That was fuckin' hot. If I didn't have to go play…"

"Jesus, Bella! You took that bitch DOWN! Em! Did you see that shit?!"

"Yep, Rosie, I saw. I sometimes forget how badass those two munchkins are…"

"Hot damn, UB! You don't need MY help, now do ya?"

"I told Ali she could beat up the next girl who pissed her off since I stopped her the last two times. I should have figured Bella would want in on it, too."

"Holy hell, I love these girls. Can they come to all our gigs?"

"Ow! Oh, my God! She hit me! Lucy, help me up! Ow! I'm calling the cops, bitch!" Maria whines as the tweeker helps her up.

Smiling my best sneer and cocking my best bitch brow, I quip, "Go ahead, whore. My _Dad's_ the police chief!" That shut her the fuck up. Howls of laughter follow her as she and her blondes scuttle away.

"Jas?"

"Yes, Rocky?"

"Where are the bouncers?"

"Pete convinced them to turn the other cheek. We bring in a lot of business. Plus, no one really likes Maria."

"Mkay. When do you have to go?" I ask while I hug him tightly. I don't mind kicking ass, but I could use the comfort he gives just by being close.

"Now, unfortunately. Sorry, Babe. You gonna be ok?"

"Yeah. I'll stick close to the guys. Promise. Um, Jas?"

"What is it, Bella? Huh?"

"Will she really call the cops?"

"No. She's too afraid to be caught holdin', I'm sure. You're fine."

"All right. Good. Because my dad would kill me. Then arrest me. Then let Jake make fun of me. Then kill me again. Shit."

Jas chuckles and holds me tighter. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. No one has ever done anything like that for me before. You got all possessive. Staked your claim. Beat the_ hell_ out of her. It was amazing."

I snicker. "Which part was amazing, baby? The possessive part or the beating ass part?"

"Both. I like it more than I thought I would, this girlfriend thing." Kissing me quickly but with great feeling, he gathers the boys and heads backstage.

I love you, I think. You're worth it, I think. I'd do it again, put up with _your_ possessiveness, I think, to see that look in your eyes again. Why can't I say it to him instead of repeating it in my head? Too soon, too soon.

More than one girl who saw the fight between me and Two-fisted Twink and the Tweeker Twins came up to Ali and me full of congratulations. Apparently, it was about time someone dealt with her handsy ass. Glad we could help. My GIRLFRIEND t-shirt got a lot of attention, as well. _Oh my God _and _I can't believe it_ and _Lucky bitch_ were the most popular comments.

Fifteen minutes later, those of our group not walking onstage are gathered around our table, fresh drinks in hand. The lights go down, and I get butterflies. My Jas is always sexy, always in control, always commanding. I've seen him smile so much when we're together. But there's something about him, the stage, a mic, and his guitar. It's his element, the stage, his natural habitat. It's palpable, his dominance and power up there. I can't articulate how I feel when I see him like that. I know I have to be closer, though.

"Come on, girls. Let's get to the stage."

"Aw, Bells!" whines Ali. "I'll get trampled."

"Alice, you just beat wholesale ass, girl. No one's gonna mess with you. I'll let you flash your boobs," I say, irresistibly enticing her.

"YAY!"

"Oh, fuck, Bella," groans Mikey, shaking his head. "You know she can't say no to that."

"Don't worry, Mike," Rose assures him. "I'll keep her Mardi Gras ass calm."

"Aw, Rose. I like flashing my boobs!"

"Ali, you're not even drinking!" Rose can't contain the giggles erupting from her equally sober self.

"But my boobs are awesome!"

"They really are," Mike chimes in. He is not sober. Nope.

I grab an arm on each of my girls and walk a straight line right through the crowd. Whenever any chick cocks a stink eye our way, Ali points at my shirt and mouths _girlfriend_. Shockingly, it works, and we end up leaning against the stage, dead center. The stage lights come up, and Jas sees us there in front of him. The smile on his face devastates me and pretty much every other straight girl in the bar. I can hear the sound of panties spontaneously combusting all around me. Fuck off, bitches. That boy is mine.

Southern Comfort begins the set with "Sleeping Giants" as is customary. Jas again uses his Bic as a slide and his guitar becomes the focus of his world. It's a sight to see. Throughout the set, they throw in some truly inspired covers. First is "I'm Amazed" by My Morning Jacket. I've never heard them do this one, and it's awesome. Brian sings this one, and he's well suited to it. Later, Jas does the Damien Rice song he played for me earlier at his place. Over an hour after they start playing, they come to the last encore. Jas steps up to the mic and floors me.

"Last song tonight, folks. It's late, we've been up here a long ass time, and, fuck, I'm tired!" Laughter from the rapt crowd. "This one is for my girl."

The opening strains of "Trouble" by Ray LaMontagne fills the room.

_Trouble_

_Been doggin' my soul since the day I was born_

_Worry_

_Just will not seem to leave my mind alone_

_Well I've been saved by a woman_

_I've been saved by a woman_

_I've been saved by a woman_

_She won't let me go_

_She won't let me go now_

_She won't let me go_

_She won't let me go now_

Jas singing this song to me has got to be one of the sexiest things seen since the dawn of time. Have you been saved by a woman, Jasper? I won't let you go.

**A/N: Come join us on Facebook in the closed group "Jasper's List" for recs, pics, and conversation. Link on my profile here. Jasper… discuss. LOL**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: I have no excuse. I was hit by the stupid stick and was utterly unable to string together enough words to form a coherent sentence, much less a cohesive chapter. I wrote, but it all sucked. Thanks for sticking with me! *warning for drug references, underage drinking* it has come to my attention that I haven't been giving these warnings…**

Ten minutes, another beer (what's that make? Four? Seven? I dunno.), two shots bought for me by the chicks-who-hate-Maria club, and four instances of pulling down Alice's shirt later, I walk into another dingy dressing room. Is it against some rule of the guitar gods to clean the nasty furniture upon which musicians sit? Just, ugh, gross. There is one bright spot amongst all the seedy squalor, and he's toweling off the accumulated sweat of two hours' worth of adrenaline-fueled performance. He's so pretty that I decide I need to rub myself all over him.

He lets out a small grunt as I drunkenly stumble his direction and slam into him.

"Hi, Babe. Did you enjoy the show?" he asks, recovering quickly.

"I think you know that I did. That song, Jas. Amazing. Thank you."

Instead of speaking, my man leans in to kiss me. I'll take it. Sweaty, salty, sweet… wait, sweet? What's that smell?

"Has Brian been sharing his stash?" I ask with a raised brow. Where is Sketch? He'd love it.

"Uh, maybe a little," he chuckles. "Jealous?" Yeah, he has partaken.

"A little," I sigh as I slide down his body to reach the floor. "So far down." That's when I hear the giggles to my left. Oh, yeah, the band.

"Next time, J, I get to sing the "Trouble" song," Brian insists.

"Fuck that. Any song that gets a reaction like that from my girl cannot be sung by any other fuckers. I'ma have to get in touch with LaMontagne, I think."

"Hell, man, it's the reaction that makes me want the mic," Brian kids. Well, I know it's a joke. I get that he's kidding. Jas, not so much.

"The fuck you say?"

"Not hers, J. Just in general. Shit, man. Chill the fuck out." His friends are looking at him in exasperation. Kinda touchy for a dude who just smoked up. Where the hell is the breezy, mellow feeling?

"Sorry," Jasper mumbles. "I spent the whole set watching one asshole after another pushin' up on her. Got me spun, guys."

"Jas, were we at the same show? All I saw were drunk chicks drooling over my man. Bitches learned a lesson tonight, though. Nobody was stupid enough to say shit where I could hear it," I declare with beer-supported bravado and a lingering feeling of badassitude following the Maria incident.

"Babe, guys were everywhere-"

"Christ Almighty, shut up!" All heads turn to see a smirking-slash-grimacing Sketch. How does he do that? It's a cool trick. "We get it! Damn, J. Bella is yours, hands off, no looking, no touching. UB, Jasper is your man, baby girl, and you will beat down a bitch to prove it. Now, shit, go find a closet and do nasty things to each other before we all puke from this lovey-dovey, possessive bullshit. It's disgusting."

Stunned silence. Wide eyes. Then uproarious laughter from all of our friends, his and mine. It's so not funny. When did Mikey and Ali get here anyway? Just in time to laugh, of course.

"Peter. Shut your mouth before-" I slap my hand over Jas's mouth before he can finish his threat and look up at my fuckhot, sweaty, slightly toasted man.

"Fuck it. He has a good idea," I sort of slur.

I grin. Jas smirks. He grabs my hand and leads me - quickly - toward the open door, but not before leaning into my ear and whispering, "Did he just call me Jasper?" I can only giggle.

Just before we clear the door into what turns out to be the manager's office, we hear Jeremy say to no one in particular, "Holy shit! It's only been a week!"

Jas slams the scarred, scraped, and sticking door and leans me against it, before leaning against me. Having no intention of waiting any longer to kiss me, yet having something to say, he begins to speak while touching my lips with his own.

"That can't be right, can it?"

"What?" I haven't quite caught on that we're having a conversation.

"Jeremy. He's not right, is he? A week?"

"Oh," I mutter, just to acknowledge that I heard words come from his mouth. But, truth be told, I'm focusing much more intently on running my tongue along the side of the motherfucking lip ring. It's my weakness.

"Bella?" He pulls back ever so slightly, just out of tongue range. Damn.

"What, baby? What was the question?" I ask with the sweetest, most fascinated smile I can muster. Add to that an eyelash flutter, and I am the very picture of devoted interest, I'm sure.

"Can you stop with the sarcastic face for a sec, Babe?" Must have looked different in reality, I guess. "Have we only been together a week? That's right, isn't it."

"Yeah. A little over a week."

"Feels like so much longer," he muses. Then he doesn't care anymore, I guess, because now he's kissing without talking. At the moment, I like this better. There's just something about my cowboy and a door…

Exiting the office not much later after a make out session for the ages and making our way to the bar to find our friends, I grasp his hand tightly. It's been an amazing weekend, and I don't want to go. I'm also a little drunk, so apparently, I don't want to walk straight, either. Jas throws his arm around my waist to steady me and holds me tightly to him. Great place to be.

"What are your plans for the week, Drunkella?" he laughs as we join the others at a table.

"School. What else? Ali and I might make Lauren have a nervous breakdown if we get bored. Right, Ali?" I kinda holler that last bit.

"Bella! Yesh, we wull. We wull scarr her sooo mush!" Um. Ali might be a little tipsy, too. Wait. _Why_ is Ali drunk?

"ALI," I yell across the table.

"WHAT," she yells back.

"WHY ARE YOU DRUNK, YOU SILLY BITCH?"

A howl of manly laughter draws my attention to the fucker on my right who asks, "Babe, why are you yelling?"

"So Alice can hear me. Duh," I say, careful to enunciate very carefully so Jas can understand me since he's dumb. Poor guy. Good thing he's so pretty.

"Bella, she is literally right across the table. You can reach out your hand and touch her if you want to," John tells me very seriously. If he's that serious, he must be telling the truth. So, I reach out and touch her. Hard. Might be a pinch.

"OW! Fuck, that HURT!"

I giggle as Mikey comforts her. She turns to him and begins to whine.

"I wanna beat her ass, Mikey."

"I know, baby."

"I won't, though."

"I know, baby."

"I want to but I won't cuz I love her so much."

"I know, baby."

"You're a good boyfriend, Mikey," I tell him in what I think is my whisper voice. Guess it's not, though, because Larry loses his shit.

"Oh my God. These girls _have _to come to every gig."

Ali sticks her tongue out at him then asks in what she must think is _her_ whisper voice, "Why were you yelling at me, pincher?"

"You're a drunk designated driver. That won't work. Defeats the whole purpose."

Mike lets out a long and frustrated sigh. "She and Rose had an argument just before we went backstage. She was upset, and I haven't had anything to drink since one beer when we first got here, so I'll drive us home."

Right about now is when I realize that Em and Rose aren't at the table with us. "Is that why they're gone?"

"Yep. I tole tha bitch to take off. She was mean to ya, Bells. You knew I couldn't jus' lettigo!"

Mary Alice Cullen, my hero. She is pointing fingers and scrunching her face and scowling and, shit, now she's making two tiny, little fists. I'm not sure why since she stopped talking about thirty seconds ago. I decide to concentrate really hard on her in case she says something else. It's tough, though, because everyone else is laughing, and I don't know the joke. Jas must not know it either because he just looks confused.

"_What's_ goin' on?" asks Jas, looking around like Emmett and Rosalie are hiding behind a chair or something.

"Girl stuff," Ali and I say together as Mikey just waves his hand and rolls his eyes in a clear message of _no way am I talking about that_.

"Ok. As much as I hate to see you go, Babe, I think it's time y'all head home."

"Aw, Jas," I whine.

"You have school in the morning. All three of you. Mike needs to get on the road, Bella."

"Don't want to." Now I'm pouting.

"Please? It'll make me feel better if you go a little early." Puppy dog eyes? Really? Shit. It's like kryptonite.

"Ok. Fine."

After a positively hectic flurry of hugs and goodbyes, Jas leads Mikey to his apartment and brings down my bag. After he throws it in the trunk, we have time for one more kiss. And grope. And grind. Ali runs up and down the stairs leading to his place singing "Love Shack" by the B-52's. Then we're on our way. I'm glad I'm a bit drunk. It would be so much harder to tell him goodbye if I was sober. I'm also glad I'm not quite drunk _enough_ to let a few certain words slip.

"_If you havin' girl problems I feel bad for you son, I got 99 problems, but a bitch ain't one!"_

"Girls, please. If you care about me at all, you will stop. I'm trying to drive here. Shit, shut UP!"

"Mikey, why so tense, dude? Me and Ali be serenadin' yo ass, son!"

"Bella, you are killing my ass with this," he groaned.

"Aw, Mikey. You havin' girl problems?" Ali and I lose our shit entirely at this.

Watching us both writhing in the back seat as gales of shrieking laughter rip through us, Mikey begins to pray, "Please, God, make it stop."

Of course, we interpret that as a plea for more.

"_I got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol, Foes that wanna make sure my casket's closed, Rap critics that say he's 'Money, Cash, Hoes', I'm from the hood stupid, what type of facts are those?"_

"Oh, fuck me! You are NOT from the hood. You are from Forks, and one of you used to be a cheerleader! I love you both, but shut the fuck up. Or, if you won't stop, at least strip or something."

"Ok, Mike. Fine."

"Really?" Sucker.

"Yeah. We'll stop," I tell him sweetly.

"If you'll really be quiet, I won't push for the boobies," he murmurs with a pained expression.

Deciding to leave Mikey to the oh-so-boring task of driving us safely home, I turn my attention to my drunk-ass best friend and fearless defender.

"Why, Ali?"

"Why what, Bella Button?" Ok, really drunk. What did she drink?

"Why fight with Rose? That was all over and done with, Ali Oop."

"You were still soooo pissed," she sing-songed, moving her finger in circles in my face, finally plucking my nose.

"No-"

"YES! Yes, you were. I know you, remember? Can't fool me." She sighs heavily, blinks, then focuses a bit more clearly on me. "I like Rose. I do. But she was way out of line, laying the blame on you like that. All I tried to do was tell her to lay off that crap, and the bitch told me to mind my own business. ME! She's running her big, fat, stupid, pretty mouth about MY brothers and MY best friend, and she tells me to mind my own business."

"But this could cause so much shit between you and Em."

"Don't worry about that," Mike interjects while Ali shakes her head. "Emmett stopped paying attention to Alice as soon as he realized what Rose had said to you. He was very, very angry."

"What a clusterfuck," I groan.

"Yeah," he continues. "She was way wrong, but she just thought she was protecting him. I almost felt sorry for her."

"MIKEY!"

"I said almost, Ali."

"Psh. Whatever. Just drive, baby."

Mike only shakes his head. He forgives her everything but doesn't let her go too far. She pushes him but would do anything he asks. They are so good for each other. I think of my Jas and smile. I hope someday people will look at the two of us and think the same thing.

"I see that smile," Ali teases. "Thinking about the lip ring, aren't you." I laugh loud enough to make Mike jump.

"Oh, not this time, but it's a good guess. I usually am," I say as we dissolve into girlish giggles. "It was such an amazing weekend."

"You deserved a great birthday. Are you happy you stayed over with him?" I nodded. "I'm glad because we're all going to pay for it tomorrow," she groans.

"I know, but it was worth it. He was perfect, Ali. I love him."

"Oh, Bella," she says quietly. Very quietly. Too quietly. What the huh?

"Too soon?" I ask in a whisper. A real whisper. I think we're sobering up.

"No. I don't think so." She considers what she's about to say. "See that awesome guy behind the wheel? I knew beyond doubt that I loved him the very first time he kissed me."

"You kissed me, baby," the guy behind the wheel chuckles.

"Semantics. Anyway, although we've known each other for years, I knew I loved him at that kiss. It was just there. First date, and I knew he was it for me. He IS it for me. It was too soon, I guess, but that doesn't make it any less true."

"I love you, Alice," he says over his shoulder. She leans up and over the seat to kiss his jaw.

"I love you, too."

"You're right, as usual," I tell her.

"I know. Does he love you, too?"

"I don't know. Maybe not yet." And with that we become quiet, three kids lost in thought, and we watch the lights on the highway rush by.

Finally, after the ride-that-would-never-end, I unlock my front door as Ali and Mike drive away. So tired.

"Bella?"

"Seth? Why are you up? It's freaking late, dude." I bend down to hug on my dog who miraculously didn't bark.

"Just let her out. Neither one of us could sleep."

"Well, go get us some chocolate milk and meet me in my room."

"'Kay. There in a minute."

Leading Fiona up to my bedroom, I feel my eyes drooping. I would MUCH rather tell him good night and send him on his way so I can go to sleep, but Seth, well, my brother had that _I need to talk _look, and I'm who he talks to. Besides, he's probably been waiting a while for me. I grab some comfy jammies and take a quick shower. By the time I'm pulling my hair into a low, loose ponytail, I hear Seth flop on my bed. Opening the door, I run and flop on the bed right next to him.

"What's up, bro?"

"I brought some hot chocolate. My feet are cold. Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yeah, I had a great time. And hot choc is good. How about you? You good?" He stiffens and throws an arm over his eyes. Uh oh.

"Bella, I'm pretty cool, right?"

"Hell, yeah. For so many reasons. You're buff, you're on swim team, you're taller than most of the seniors, you're smarter than me, you're funnier than Jake, you can cook, and I guess you're not ugly. I mean, come on, you're my brother. That alone qualifies you as cool."

He huffs out a chuckle and removes his arm as he rolls his eyes. "Yeah. I guess I know all that. It's just nice to hear."

I roll on my side to face him and ask, "Jane?"

"No, not really. Jane's friends. And Brady, a junior. And Colin, the team co-captain also a junior."

"Well, what does Jane say?"

"That if she wanted Brady or Colin, she would date them." Then he laughs. "And that she has me because she doesn't want to kiss her friends. I should have told her about Eric's party!"

I smack him with a pillow before he knows it's coming his way, then smother his laughter with it. It takes a minute, but we calm down.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah. I just needed to hear it out loud. Thanks, Bells. Now go to sleep. You'll need the rest. Jake's gonna corner you in the morning and try to enlist you in "Operation Win Back Victoria." He messed up again."

"Anytime. And thanks for the heads up."

He leaves my room with a lighter step than he entered with. I'm exhausted, but it was worth a few minutes. I love that he comes to me with this stuff. Before, I never felt like I was anyone to give him advice since I had no idea how to be in a relationship, either. These days, though, I think I might just have a bit of positive insight.

**A/N: To all of you who have stuck with Bella & Jas through my horrifying trip through "THE BLOCK," I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know it's frustrating to wait for a story you enjoy to update, but I refuse to publish work I wouldn't want to read. So thanks again for understanding! You are awesome.**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Don't own Twilight.**

"Oh, sweet Lord, I'm dying. I can't go to school, Jake. Go run interference with Charlie. Please, please, please. Please, Jake."

"No, I will not. Get your hung over ass up."

"Oh, my God. I might not feel quite so much like death if you'd stop laughing so loud. Ughhhh…." Why? Why does my brother hate me so?

"Bells, get up. If you blow off school for a hangover, they'll be harder on me when I do it. Come on."

He smacks the bottom of the foot I have sticking out from the covers, turns abruptly without waiting for my comeback, then slams the door. I want to hurt, maim, scratch, bite, and pummel him, but that will require so much more effort than I am ready to put into it right now. Retribution will have to wait. But he's right. Skipping today would set up a bad precedent. It matters not one shit that it might fuck things up for Jake, but I'd hate for Seth to miss out on the almost-total freedom that we've had. Guess I'm going to school.

Brushing my teeth, wondering if I should just find some steel wool with which to grind the nasty off of my tongue, I contemplate my hair. How? How does something like that happen? Does alcohol leech into the follicles and cause snarling? I was asleep, for fuck's sake, not swinging my head around like some 80s hair band groupie on the hood of Whitesnake's car. Not possible to have this many tangles. Climbing into the shower, making the water as hot as I can stand, I pray, _Please, God, let the conditioner work. _No prayer too big or too small, right? Jeans, Chucks, Pearl Jam t-shirt, a hoodie, and a ponytail will just have to do for today. My only concession to Alice-mandated girliness is make up. Given the moon-sized circles under my eyes and the pale-even-for-me pallor to my skin, make up is indeed a necessity. Black eyeliner cures all fashion and beauty ills. Extremely dark Ray-Bans complete the ensemble. Must not remove sunglasses.

Breakfast is of the Captain Crunch variety. I take my coffee and my bowl of sugary goodness out to the back deck in an effort to breathe in some rejuvenating fresh air. Can't tell yet if it's working. Probably not, if my mother's face is any indication.

"Long weekend, Isabella?"

"Mm hmm. Long but amazing. Thanks for everything, Mom."

"Oh, honey, you are so welcome. I hope it was all you wanted it to be," she says with a far away look in her eyes. Oh, please don't ask me, please don't ask me. "Did things go well on the sleepover?" She asked me.

"Yes, " I say with an eye roll that she can't really see, the universal teenage signal for _Please shut the fuck up_. I find that now that I have more to report, I appreciate the questions less. Who knew all this open communication stuff would come back to bite me on the ass?

"I just want to know if he was good to you. Was he respectful of you? Did he make you comfortable?"

"Yes, he did. He's a wonderful host," I offer with an unconcealed smile. "And he's always been respectful of any boundaries I've had." No need to tell her that I am a non-boundary-having ho where he's concerned.

"And is he considerate of your, um, needs?" Even she can't look at me when asking this question. My mother wants to know if Jasper makes me come. Huh. Wonder how many of my classmates are having _this _conversation.

"Oh, God. Mom. Ok. Well, uh, yes. He is VERY considerate of my needs. Yeah. Jas is, um, a very, uh, considerate guy. Uh, humph." Painful. So painful, but I manage to look her in the facial area when I answer. Well, she asked!

"Good, " she smirks knowingly. She rises from her Adirondack chair, leans over mine to kiss my head, and goes back inside.

"Fuck me, " I whisper. I guess it could have been worse. It could have been Dad.

Just the thought of driving sucks ass, so I con Jake into driving us all to school in my truck with the promise that I would give him get-Victoria-back advice. It's so not gonna help though, since he fucked up so royally. What in the world possessed him to actually tell her he liked her enough to not fuck other chicks. Those words exactly. So romantic, right? Not arrogant at all. All she did was refuse to take his calls. I would have punched his dumb ass.

"I was just trying to let her know that I want to be faithful. She's so cool! She's beautiful, and funny, and smart, and not from Forks, which is a plus-"

"Jake, that's what you should have told her! What you said was disrespectful to her. I'm sure she felt like she was just a notch on the Jake-post, you know? IF, and that's a BIG if, she talks to you again, tell her what you just told me."

"Ok," he says quietly, almost sounding defeated. That is not a good sound coming from him. Quite unfamiliar.

"Try texting her," I advise. "Few people can resist at least a peak at a text. She may not answer for a while, but I'm pretty sure she'll read them."

"Ok," he says again, nodding. "Thanks, Bells. Sorry I was such a loud ass this morning. How you feeling?"

My only answer is a grunt and an eye squint. Oh, right, sunglasses. He can't see the squint. He laughs at me again anyway. Seth begins to chuckle under his breathe. At me? At Jake? At Jake.

"What are you laughing at, Ladder Boy?" asks Jake.

"Dude, I'm two years younger, and I wouldn't fuck up _that_ bad. You just go right on and text her, Jake. Let me know how that goes." And the laughter continues.

Jake reaches across me and begins hammering away at Seth's arm. Someday I'll learn not to sit on a bench seat between them.

"Shut the hell up! I really like her!" Punch.

"Yeah, I can tell," Seth wheezes through the pain.

"What the hell do you know about girls, anyway, Tarzan?" Punch punch.

"OW. I know my girl's hotter than yours! And she's still talking to me!" Laugh wince.

"I am going to beat the living shit out of you!" Jake roars.

Jake throws a serious fist at Seth, which he just does manage to avoid in the limited confines of the cab of my truck. Jake, so mad he seems unaware that's he's doing it, jerks the wheel. This has got to stop. Now.

"Both of you stop. Stop!" I yell, holding up both hands to try to keep them apart. "Seth, shut up. Enough. Jake, you're gonna kill us all. You're driving! And if you fucking hit _me_, I'll send Ali after you."

"Sorry, Bells," they both say. Wow. It worked.

"Just calm down. Damn."

I can't help but be relieved when we pull into the school parking lot. Some days it's not a bad thing that Forks is such a small town. On days when I'm hungover and feeling like death, stuck in a truck with brawling brothers? Yeah, those are the days in particular when I am grateful for a ten minute commute. I feel even better when I see Mike holding Ali up beside his car. She looks worse than me.

"Laughing at Twink, Bella? Mean," sighs Seth with a grin.

"Yeah. Isn't _that_," Jake smirks pointing at Ali as he parks, "_your_ fault?"

"I thought I told you both to shut up," I mumble. Stupid, picking, non-hungover boys.

The truck rolls to a stop in its familiar spot, and we are finally, finally, FINALLY able to get out of it. I stagger over to my friends as my brothers wander off nipping and pawing at each other like a couple of overgrown puppies. Is it wrong that I want to throw all of my books at them?

'What, Bella? No Jay-Z this morning?" Yeah, Mike is way too fucking cheerful right now.

"Mikey, stop the screaming. I told you already," groans Ali.

"Not screaming, baby, but I'll stop," he whispers as he kisses her temple. Now I want to puke for two reasons. Gag. Too early for this.

"Nope. No Jay-Z. I only have a few problems this morning. Sunlight, noise, cheerful friends, stupid boys…" I trail off as my phone begins to ring. I know it's Jas, and I am almost able to smile. When did he change his ringtone to "Wild Eyed Southern Boys" by .38 Special? Sneaky cowboy.

"Hi, Jas."

"_Hey, Babe. Are you dyin'?"_

"I think so. The sunlight hates me. What are you doing up so early?"

"_I have a job, Babe. Peter actually expects me to work. That fucker never has a hangover."_

"How are you feeling?"

"_I'm good. I'll be fine once I get another coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit."_

"Oh, God, do not speak of such greasy food. Is that biscuit homemade?" I have to giggle.

"_Yes, it is, smartass. You feelin' too bad for school?"_

"No, I'll make it. I just have to survive the fluorescents. Ali, on the other hand, might not make it past homeroom. She looks truly awful."

"_Serves her crazy munchkin ass right for waking up all of my neighbors with that God-awful song last night. I caught hell for that."_

"I'm sorry, baby. I will make her pay for it."

"_Good. Gotta go. Just wanted to check on you. Bye, Babe. Pete says hi."_

"Hi back to him. Bye, Jas."

"_See you soon."_ And he hangs up. Not soon enough, I want to say Love you, I want to say.

"And you say we're mushy? Boyfriend just called to check on the hangover situation, Bella. You don't get to gag at us anymore," huffs Alice, trying to hide her smile. Or maybe she wasn't trying to hide it; maybe it just hurt. Yeah, I'm going with pain.

"Whatever. Angie!" I catch sight of her Honda pulling in and wave her over. She'd be headed in our direction anyway, but I want her to move her ass. Chick has some gossip to share. Right. Now.

"Jeez, Bella, I'm coming. Calm down. What's up your butt?" Angie asks when she finally gets to us. Was she crawling through molasses? Slow.

"Information. Now, Weber," snaps Alice. Like, literally snaps at her. Little buddy is full of attitude today. Mary Alice Hangover Special with a side of Bitch, please.

"Ben, get lost," Angie tells her boyfriend with a kiss. "Mike, you, too. Go. Scoot. Girls only."

This just got very interesting. The guys grumble but leave, secretly relieved not be a part of this moment of drama, I think.

"Girls only?" I ask.

"Well, I'm not really sure of the reaction I'm going to get. I thought you and Ali might not want an audience, Bella."

"Go on," I say. Her news is about Edward; it must be. Why else would she be worried about Ali and me? What kind of reaction does she expect? "It's Ed, right? What's wrong with him, Angie?"

"At first I thought it was just juicy gossip. Like, you have Jas and seem to be so over Eddie and whatever so I thought it would just be silly and we'd laugh-"

"Breathe, Ange," whispers Ali. She's as shocked as I am at Angela's rambling. She never gets this flustered. Angie is the most normal, even-keeled friend we have. "What changed?"

"I got more information. I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to say this over the phone."

"Just spit it out!" Now I'm scared.

"He's got someone new, Bella. My cousin Annie, the one at UPA, is a waitress at an all-night diner. You remember her? The one who invited us to that frat party last year? That's how she recognized Edward; she thought he was hot. Anyway, she had him and some skanky chick, as my cousin called her, at one of her tables Friday night."

Angie finally pauses to take a breath, and I have a second to consider how I feel about this. Um. Aside from feeling sad about him being with another skank, apparently, I'm ok with it. How about that.

"Angie, I really appreciate you worrying about me, but really, I'm over it."

"No," she sighs then stops. "That's not all the reason I held onto this. At first, that's all Annie told me. Then she called me back; she said since he was my friend, she felt like she had to give me the whole story. I didn't know how to tell you or Ali, at least not over the phone, that wouldn't sound, well, gossipy."

"Ange?" Ali's nervous now, too.

"He was so messed up, Annie said. So messed up he didn't recognize her. I thought, you know, that wasn't so bad. He only met her that one time, and we were all drinking that night. But then she said he fell out of the booth when he got up to go to the bathroom. The girl he was with had to help him because he was staggering a little. Then she, uh, crap." She stops abruptly, biting her lip.

"Tell me, Angela. Please," Alice pleads. "What did she do to my brother?"

"She, uh, went into the bathroom with him. They were in there a while."

"So? They screwed in the stall," I say. I didn't say they fucked because Angie hates that word. But, so what? They fucked in the stall. Not exactly a classy move, but…

"No, that's not it. Annie was listening because, hell, someone does it in the bathroom at a diner, you're gonna listen, right?"

"True," Ali concedes. "What did she hear?"

"Nothing. She heard nothing. Then, when they came out, Ed had to be helped back to his seat. He wasn't just staggering anymore."

Angie is looking at Ali and me with wide, frightened eyes. She knows as well as we do what this sounds like, and she really, really didn't want to be the messenger. God, how I wish this was just fun gossip.

"Oh, shit," Ali groans.

Me? I can't make a sound. This is bad. Whatever he did in that bathroom with New Skank, it wasn't a beer or whiskey. I'm betting it was white and came in a small clear plastic bag. He's taking candy from strangers. Oh, Ed.

"Alice, what do we do? Do we tell your dad?"

"I don't know. We don't snitch…" She stops to consider her thumb nail with great focus and intensity. I know how she feels.

We aren't exactly model citizens, my friends and I. We drink, we smoke weed, we've tried a lot of other drugs, we cuss like demented sailors, we lie to our parents, we have fake IDs, we have lots of sex, we get in fights, we disturb the peace, we break the speed limit like it's our jobs to do so. What we don't do is snitch. But none of us has ever been in this kind of trouble before. This time is sounds like someone could really go too far. He's going too far.

"Is he here today?" I ask, looking for his car as I wait for Ali to answer.

"He should be. He was home last night. He never came out of his room, but he was home." Ali stands on tip toes to look for her twin. "There, on the end of the back row. The Volvo. He's here," she informs us, relieved.

"What are you thinking, Bells?" Angie asks.

"I'm thinking we take the information Annie gave you and confront Ed with it. See if he'll talk to us. If not, Alice, we have to tell your parents. They have to know."

"They suspect already."

"What?" Angie can't believe it.

"They don't suspect THIS, I don't think, but they know something is wrong. Ok. We confront him first."

"Me? Or you?" I ask.

"Together?" she responds. We are so far out of the range of our skill sets. "But just us; I don't want him to feel ganged up on."

"You're right. If he feels cornered, he'll run. It's what he does. We can't let him. So, when?"

"Be open to the opportunity, I guess. But we have to make it happen today. Agreed?"

"Yeah. Today," I sigh. Turning back to a teary-eyed Angela, I move to hug her, only to be beaten to it by Ali.

"Don't cry. You did exactly what we would have done. It was a hard thing to tell. But if you hear anything else," my bestie says, looking our friend squarely in the eyes, "you have to say something immediately. Ok, Angie? Right away, on the phone or not. Got it?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry. I should have-"

"No. Enough of that. We love you, girl," I tell her firmly, as I join the hug.

We break up and head into the school together, silently hunting for the boy we love, who drives us so crazy, who hurts us so badly, who we can't ignore any longer.

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I do own too many memories of this amazing Saga, and a heart full of gratitude for Stephenie Meyer for giving it to us.**

Moving oh so very slowly through the hall toward the cafeteria, I meet up with Ali and Mike by his locker. He somehow convinced Mrs. Cope, the school secretary and resident locker assigner, that a locker on the hall closest to the food was_ necessary _for him, not to mention his right as a senior and quarterback. Mike is very charming and all about food. Oh, and boobs, of course. He also hates to wait in line. Close to the door? First in line. Such a guy. Jake has concrete plans in place to copy this lunchroom achievement in two years time. Boys.

"Feeling any better, Bells?" Ali croaks.

"I feel like you look," I moan.

"Puking bitch."

"Haggard cow."

"And now that we've shared the love," Mikey smirks, "can we go eat?"

"You go on in, sweetie, and we'll catch up in a minute. We need a chick moment."

"What do you want to eat, Ali? Bella?"

"Water," we say in unison.

After Mikey leaves us, shaking his head, Ali asks, "Have you seen him?"

"No, not really. He's here, I've caught glimpses, but he's ditching. I think that's what he's doing, anyway. Maybe he's just avoiding me. Did he show up in your shared class?"

"Yeah, he did, but he took off like an exploding bat out of match factory hell when the bell rang. If he doesn't show up for lunch, we can skip last period and meet him at his car."

"Yeah, that's a plan. I want to see him before he leaves school." I close my eyes against the tears that have suddenly come to the surface. I feel like I've been holding them back all day. "The more I think about it, Ali, I just..." I can't really finish; I have no idea what to say. Leaning back against Mike's locker again, I give her an appraising look. "By the way, the hem of your skirt is uneven."

"It's what? WHERE?"

"Uneven. Crooked. Very hard to see, but I do notice it."

"Where is it uneven, Isabella?" Ali grinds out through her teeth.

"Where is what, Mary Alice?"

"And why are you being a bitch?"

"That's for Jas and the B-52s," I smile.

Alice stares with shocked eyes and open mouth, then snaps her teeth together violently. Narrowing her big blues to a squint, she abruptly swings her body away from me and toward the cafeteria door. It might have been a cuttingly catty action had she not winced then staggered when her hangover headache caught up with her. Silly Ali, trying to be mean.

Following closely after her, we join Mike at our occasional usual table. Ben, Eric, Tyler, Lauren, and Jessica are already there. We are ten all together, our group of Forks Senior Royalty, when everyone is present. Right now we're missing Angie, who should be here any time, and Edward, whom no one has seen since the end of the last period. Every now and then Eric will invite whatever random girl he's trying to score with at the time. There are, of course, kids on the periphery, satellites to our planet-sized egos. Most are underclassmen and therefore cannot sit with us; their turn comes next year or the year after. Others are on some sports team or another, cheerleaders, class officers, who just don't fit in with our little crowd. We are decidedly not straight arrows, and some kids who should be more popular just can't (or won't) hang with us. Edward, Ali, and I are here because Emmett said so. Angie gets in almost by default; she and Ben are attached at the hip, and Ali and I would fight for her. Even though we hate Jess and Lauren, they have their places at this table honestly. The see-saw of girl power fluctuates between them and Ali and me, though. It seems _that_ struggle never ends.

We sit here when we deign to grace the student body with our presence at meal time. Usually, we eat outside or in our cars. Today we're on a hunting expedition. At least, Ali, Angie, and I are. After the initial wow factor we bring by being in the room dies down (yes, I am aware that sounds conceited. Hell, it _is_ conceited. Doesn't make it less true.), the other kids go back to being their loud, gossipy selves. They gossip about themselves, about each other, and about us. Always about us. They know shit that some of us don't know about our group; maybe we can learn something important about Ed if we listen closely.

Casting my eyes in what I hope is a covert, stealthy manner, I try to pick up on the mood of the kids around us. No help there; they're all still gaping at us. Turning back to my friends before my interest is noticed, I catch sight of Ali intently studying the hem of her skirt. I almost feel guilty about the turmoil the non-existent unevenness I've convinced her of has caused, but then I think of Jas and his having to explain the serenade from last night to his neighbors. She can suffer a little bit longer.

Angie slips into her seat beside me and whispers, "Any luck?"

"No," I tell her, feeling defeated and useless. I throw myself back in my chair and give the crowded, noisy room one more glance before giving up. And that's when I see him.

"Ali. He's here."

"Thank God. He looks kind of… normal?" She says this as a question because he looks just like he usually does, but not. It's strange, really. Something is just off, but it's hard to pinpoint. I have a guilty feeling that it's been that way for a while, but we were only now paying enough attention to notice.

"Hi," I breathe in his direction as he sits in a chair about as far from me as he's able to get at a round table.

Slouching in his seat, he raises his eyebrows at me. "You allowed to fucking speak to me now?"

"I was always allowed to speak to you, Ed."

"Right. You just chose not to speak to your best friend since you were four. That bike-riding asshole had nothing to do with it. Sure," he sneers, more hateful to me as he's ever been.

The table gets eerily quiet, like, not one breath being taken. Bella and Edward openly fighting where anyone can see? Epic on so many levels. Even to our friends. Especially to our friends. I have to remind myself not to strike back, not to get angry, not to tear into him like I would just about any-fucking-body else in the world who talked to me like that. I'm trying to help him.

"Our argument has nothing to do with my boyfriend, Ed. Can we go outside and talk?"

"No," he says simply. No inflection, no emotion, no hesitation. Then he turns his face away from me.

We watch as he sits there, almost a part of the conversation, holding himself just outside of it. He is chewing his thumbnail, bouncing his knee, darting his eyes from person to person. Why can't the rest of them see it?

Ali and I look to each other, hands clasped together under the table, each taking strength from the only other person who really understands. Ed is her other half, by her side since conception. He is her buffer from Emmett's bigger-than-life nature, the buoy she clings to when she feels the weight of Esme's perfection, the barrier between her and the pressures of accepting the normalcy Carlisle champions.

For me, he's been .. too much to name. The good cop to my bad, the up to my down, the Sodapop to my Ponyboy, the half-full part of my half-empty glass. He's always been the keeper of the lists, the one who would wait for me to finish one before moving on, the one to remind me of the reasons I needed to put them aside when enough was enough. The only one besides Ali who knows why they are necessary, who understands and accepts the chaos of my brain. He understands, like no one else, that even when the outside is calm, when your home is warm and loving and perfect, inside you can still feel small and worthless. He is my first crush, my first heartbreak. He is part of every good memory I've had since the age of four. He was my best friend. And now it's all changed. Now, I don't know who he is, to me or to himself.

"Eddie, come on. I'll go with you guys. It's time to get this all out," Ali almost begs.

Edward stands so quickly that his chair is propelled backward four feet. Fury in his eyes, he points at his sister with a shaking hand and grits out, "Fuck that, Alice. Keep your fake concern and your bitch friend out of my business. It's too late to give a shit now."

Mike, not one to sit idly by when someone is yelling at the love of his existence, even if that someone is her brother, stands just as abruptly to his feet, His chair falls over - no one is as graceful as Ed, even in his anger.

"You watch the way you talk to her, man. Brother or not, I'll beat your ass for that," Mikey seethes. He's pulling up his big boy pants again. Ali always knew he had it in him. I'm ashamed because I never would have believed it if I hadn't been there to see it for myself these last weeks. "And don't you call Bella that. You've been a real prick to her. Did you expect her to bake you cookies? You've been a dick to all of us! Jessica didn't deserve it, and neither do the rest of us. What the fuck is wrong with you, Ed?" Mike ends his tirade with a tone that betrays his need to understand his friend.

The cafeteria is silent, the other students watching with rapt attention as the popular crowd implodes. Despite what every high school movie ever would have you believe, the conversations of your typical large group of teenagers never truly ceases. This is an unnatural phenomenon. We, too, are speechless as Edward marches out of the room without a backward glance. Before Mike or anyone else can stop us, Ali and I take off after him. Hand in hand we careen around corners and out the front door to catch him at his car before he leaves.

"EDWARD! WAIT! Stop, please, wait!" Ali cries when we finally break free from the building. Edward shows no sign of hearing as he continues his brisk pace toward the Volvo. Releasing my hand, she finds a speed I've never known her to possess and catches his arm in her desperate hands. "Stop, damn it!"

"WHAT! What do you _want,_ Alice?" he yells, whipping around to face us.

"Please talk to us. What is going on? What's happened, Eddie?" She begins to cry, great big fat tears rolling down her perfectly pink porcelain cheeks.

Silent up to now, I begin sobbing myself. I watch as he paces back and forth between his car and his sister, gripping his hair to the point of obvious pain with both hands. His whole body is in turmoil: chest heaving, hands shaking, eyes squinting, teeth biting his lip. I see the instant he decides to talk; his entire being radiates surrender.

"Fine. Whatever. Get in the car; we've put on enough of a show."

"Me, too, Ed?" I wouldn't have recognized that as my voice if I wasn't aware I was speaking. I'm not used to hearing that frightened tone coming from me.

"Yeah. Yeah, Bella, come on."

Climbing into the back seat of the car, I scoot to the middle so I can see him clearly. Ali gets situated in the passenger seat, and Ed fidgets his way behind the wheel. In days past, these have been comfortable positions from which to set off on an adventure, full of excitement. Today, this familiar arrangement feels more like that point between the mountain and the ravine, teetering on the edge.

"Edward, can you tell us why-"

Ali stops midway through her question when the shaking in Edward's hands spreads throughout his body. We seem to realize at the same time that he's crying. Hands covering his face, shoulders shaking, gasping for breath crying.

"Edward," I plead, touching his shoulder, though I'm not sure what I'm pleading for. He shakes off my hand and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'm so tired," he whispers. Staring straight ahead, he continues a little louder. "Bella, I'm tired of being mad at you. Alice, I'm tired of hiding from you. I'm really fucking sick of missing you both. This shit got gotten out of hand, got away from me when I wasn't paying attention. I don't understand how the fuck this all happened!"

He's growing agitated again, hands back in his hair, rocking back and forth on the driver's seat. He very plainly does not want to do this, but he is. That means something, doesn't it?

"The drinking?" Ali asks. He responds with a harsh, barking, humorless laugh.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"It's gotten worse, hasn't it," I offer stupidly. Of course it has.

"You think so, Bella? Worse than what? Worse than when?"

Ali looks pained and puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"It's been bad for a while. Longer than I want to admit to. I just used to be better at keeping it together." With that the pulls out a fifth from under his seat. "This is with me every day now."

"Every day? How are you doing that?"

"Don't be stupid, Alice. Don't play dumb," he snaps. "We all have those IDs; I just use mine more than you. Not here, of course, but PA is not that far away."

"You've been driving DRUNK?!" Ali loses her shit and starts hitting him wherever her tiny fists can reach. Edward raises his arms to keep the blows at bay, but makes no move to stop her or strike back. "You could have DIED, dumbass! You could have killed someone else! We've all ridden with you. Me, Bella, Mike, Tyler, Jessica…. Oh my God, Jessica. Does she know?" She stops hitting him and leans back against her door, reaching for my hand between the seats.

"Uh, yeah," he croaks, looking back out the windshield. "It's why I finally called that mess of a relationship off. She knew, she nagged, she threatened. I had enough. So did she."

"That bitch," I spit. "She knew and she walked away? Selfish. What if something happened to you? Why didn't she tell-"

"Stop it, Bella," Edward cuts me off. "She doesn't deserve that. Yes, she knows a lot of what's going on, but she's like us, you know? She doesn't snitch." And I am rightfully chastised.

"Why now, Edward? Why talk to us now?"

"Because you finally called me out, Ali. I think I was waiting for you two to notice."

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry," she sobs. "I'm so sorry." She lunges across the console to hug her brother tightly, crying out her broken, guilty heart. I know that's what she's doing, because I am, too.

"Ali stop. That's enough. C'mon, calm down, both of you. That's not all of it," he confesses as he sets her back in her seat. "Something happened that scared the shit out of me."

"The diner in PA," I state matter-of-factly, wiping my face.

He rolls his eyes and for a moment he looks like the Ed I know. "Is there a single fucking thing you don't know? Yes, the damn diner. Shit. How do you do that?"

"Angie's cousin," I smirk. Even now, I still enjoy getting the upper hand on him.

"Fuck. You can never hide, huh?"

"What happened," Ali whispers, not really wanting to know.

"I went up to PA without you guys. I was at this little club, drunk off my ass, when this chick comes over to me and just sits down. Cute but not my type. Besides, I'd just broken up with Jess and fought with you," he said, glancing back at me. "We chatted, and she basically asked me if I wanted to fuck. I told her no, but I wouldn't mind getting fucked up."

"Edward," Ali sighs, fear and frustration both evident in the sound.

"I know, Ali. Just let me get through this, ok?" She nods. "This is so hard. And damn embarrassing. Anyway, she takes me to meet this dude, Jamie or James or some shit and gives us-"

"JAMES!" Ali and I both yell at the same time.

"Smarmy, blond, creepy looking fucker?" I ask.

"Really, Bella? Ali? For fucking real? How the hell do even know my dealer?" he screeches incredulously.

"It doesn't matter, not right now. Just keep going," I tell him. This is not Jasper's story today. "What did he sell you?"

"We will come back to how the two of you know this guy. Jesus," he mumbles. "Anyway, he didn't _sell_ me anything. New customer - he _gave_ me a taste. And it was all I needed. Oxy will fuck you up. The girl, Tanya or Tammy or some shit, she was bait, I guess. Or maybe she just wanted to fuck."

"Please tell me it was just that once. Please, Eddie, even if you have to fucking lie," Ali begs.

"I don't have to lie. It scared the shit out of me. It was hell; I thought I was going to die. No, no drugs after that, and only the stuff we all did together before it. I couldn't handle that hard shit, so I hit the bottle again. Harder. More." He sighs, the weight of his decisions showing in the sag of his shoulders. "And then I heard Mom and Dad talking about me, and I heard you, Ali, crying in your room to Mike. And I got scared all over again. I'm eighteen, and I'm so fucked up that I can't even figure out what the real damn problem is!"

"Why? What led you to this? Just, why?" Ali is shattered and searching for answers he can't give.

"I don't know," he says, shaking his head., lost as to the cause of his own undoing.

"We'll help, Ed. Will you let me?"

"Do you care, Bella? You really give a shit anymore?" He turns around so he can see me when he asks me this. I'm pretty sure the devastation I feel is writ large on my face.

"Yes. I do. You pushed me away, remember."

"But you didn't come back this time," he whispers, broken.

"You made me choose. This time I chose me instead of you. It was never about Jas."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Ok, then. Give me a minute to make a call. I'm working this problem."

"Do you need paper?" he asks with a weak smile.

"Not yet," I say getting out of the car, leaving him in the care of his other half. I call the voice I want to hear the most. The voice that might lead me to the best answers.

"Jas?"

"_Hey, Babe. You still hungover? Need me to get ya outta of class?" he laughs._

"I wish that was why I was calling. I need your help."

"_Ok, shoot."_

"What was the name of the rehab place you went to in Seattle? Would it be a good place for a teenager?"

"_Bella, just because you got drunk this weekend does not mean you need rehab. If you're worried, we can stop drinking when you're here. Booze was never really my problem but-"_

"No, Jas, not for me."

"_Thank God. Who, then?"_

"Edward. Ali and I confronted him today and-"

"_Edward?"_

"Yeah."

"_Edward. I thought we agreed you would steer clear of him-"_

"I have been, Jas, but we needed to figure out what's been going on with him. We heard he was doing more than drinking."

"_He has a sister, other friends. It had to be you? I don't think so."_

"Jasper, Don't be that way. He's my best friend. He needs me." Now I'm getting pissed.

"_Best friend? Right. Bullshit. He's treated you like shit since the night I met you." _Jas is very angry. Very angry.

"He needs me. I can't turn my back on him."

"_Whatever. The one thing I've asked of you, Bella. The one thing you knew I wouldn't like, that would piss me off."_

"Will you give me the name of the place? Then we'll talk about this later, ok?"

"_The place I went to wouldn't be a good place for him. He'll have to look somewhere else."_

"Just give me the name so I have a place to start."

"_No. Just look up Seattle facilities. It won't be difficult."_

"Don't be an ass. I'll call you back later tonight, alright?"

"_You do what you want, Bella. You will anyway." _And then he hung up.

Well, that did not go the way I expected. I knew he wouldn't really be pleased to talking about Ed, but I didn't expect the anger at me. We'll work it out, though. I'll call him later and make plans for this weekend, and we'll talk things over. He'll understand. Right? Until then, there's only one thing to do before we face Carlisle and Esme. I make one more call.

"_Bells?"_

"Em. We need you."

**A/N: OK, so Bella can sometimes suffer from PGBS - Popular Girl Bitch Syndrome. She's not perfect. Also, "fuck" is my favorite word. Deal with it. ****J**

**Saw the movie. Loved the movie. Screamed at the movie. Cried at the movie. Need to see the movie again.**

**THE LISTS has been nominated for an Energize W.I.P. Award (non-canon). I don't know which one of you crazy bitches nominated me, but thank you from the bottom of my heart. I seriously squealed and cried a little. (I'm an over-emotional American. Sue me. LOL) There have been other milestones that have made me smile, like reaching 500 reviews and being recced on Jasper's Darlins, but this is amazing to me. Voting is open until November 20****th****, so vote soon for Jas and Babe if they have grabbed your story-love! **


	30. Chapter 30

"Em. We need you."

"_Uh, sure. What's up?"_

"We have a serious problem. Can you come home? Like, tonight?"

"_Bells, you're being cryptic. What's wrong?"_

"Edward. He's… he's in trouble. He needs our help, Em."

"_Bells," _he sighs, exasperated with me.

"The drinking, Emmett. And Oxy," I pause when I hear Em choke on that one. "He needs rehab. He's finally talking to Ali and me, I shouldn't have ignored him, I don't know what else to do, we have to tell your parents, I already called Jas about a facility but he got pissed at me, you have to come home! We need you!" All one breath. Who knew a person could sum up all the wreckage in their soul in just one breath? Emmett has to come home. I need his strength. I need a hug. I need someone else to deal with this.

"_Wait, wait. Slow down. Oxy? Really? How did you two get him to open up? I thought you were fighting. And J is pissed _why? _What the hell is going on there?"_

Hearing the worry and frustration is his voice is too much. I finally break completely. Emmett is our rock, and though his shoulders are an hour away, I cry on them anyway.

"Emmett, please just get here," I blubber. "I promise to explain everything then. Ali needs you; she's gonna fall apart. I don't want Ed to change his mind and run away from this. I'm way out of my depth here. Please, Em."

"_I'm already in the Jeep. Calm down, Bells, it'll be ok. I'm coming. Please don't cry. Where do you want me to meet you guys?"_

"I think the diner, probably. We can't take him home yet," I say trying to get myself under control. I take a look into the car and see Edward and Alice clinging tightly to each other, great, shuddering sobs wracking them both. "They're both in shit shape right now. I'll text you if it changes."

"_All right, honey. Calm down, now. I'm on my way. I'll take care of everything."_

"Ok. Be careful. And Em?"

"_Yeah?"_

"I'm so sorry, " I whisper.

"_What? Why?"_

"I should have known. If I hadn't been so selfish, if I hadn't been such a-"

"_Stop that shit, Bella. Right now. Edward made his own choices. You hear me?"_

"Yeah. See you soon. Love you."

"_Love you, too. Hang on to Double Trouble 'til I get there_," he says as he hangs up, using a nickname for his siblings that he hasn't used since middle school. Personally, I was always partial to the Wonder Twins.

Taking a very deep breath, wiping my face, and squaring my shoulders, I open the back door and get back into the car.

"So? What's up?" Ali asks, having moved back to her seat.

"I called Emmett."

"WHAT?" Ed seems less than pleased by this turn of events. "Why would you do that?"

"He can help, Ed. You need some help," I answer quietly, hoping to calm him down.

"Bella, " he groans.

"I need some help. I don't really know what to do, Edward. I need him here."

"Me, too," pipes in Ali. "He can help a lot when it comes time to deal with Mom and Dad. You know he does no wrong in their eyes."

"You're right about that, " Ed mutters.

"They'll listen to him. It might make things calmer."

I'm still trying to convince Ed that calling Em is a good thing when the giant walks through the door of the diner. Doesn't matter anymore what the boy thinks; big bro is here now.

Sliding into the booth next to me, Emmett silently observes his brother and sister. They are clinging to each other in a way we haven't seen since we were all in elementary school. In the summer between third and fourth grade, Esme thought it would be a good idea to create some "individuality" between the twins. Her solution was to send Edward to England to spend time with some of Carlisle's relatives. Edward and Mary Alice disagreed; they have never dealt well with forced separation. I think they both feel its inevitability now.

"What the hell have you done?"

"Emmett!" I can't believe this is how he's beginning this conversation. "Go easy. Shit! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with _me_? What's wrong with _him_!" Turning from me to glare at Ed again, Emmett points and grinds out, "Bella calls me in tears, Ali has a red face and swollen eyes. Look at what you've caused. I'm one fucking hour away. You couldn't have called me if you needed help? You couldn't call me, Edward, when you needed me?"

"I didn't need you," Edward seethes. "I got this."

"What are you talking about? 'You got this'?" Em is standing, yelling, pointing.

"Em," I plead, pulling him back down by his arm, "please, sit down. Don't do this, not here."

He sits, covering his crumbling face with both huge hands. Ali speaks quietly to Edward who seems to have shut down, pulling on his now-familiar mask of disinterest. I lean into Emmett as he takes one stuttering breath and lays his hands on the table, eyes cast down, unable to look at his brother.

"I've spent your whole life covering for you, man. Every corner you've backed yourself into, every mistake you couldn't fix, every person you've pissed off and couldn't ignore, every fucking problem you've had that you couldn't hide from, I took care of it. Every time. Mom and Dad on your ass about your attitude, when you bailed on football, the exams you cheated on, when Jess thought she was pregnant… I've been there to help you clean everything up, Edward. I've kept all the bad away from you. Why was this different?"

"I was tired of being taken care of. I just wanted to handle my own shit," Ed spits at him.

"Worked out great," Em huffs.

Edward's face falls as he whispers, "I never meant… Emmett, I don't… I don't know what to do now."

"Shit," Em whispers, leaning back in the booth and staring at the ceiling.

Ali and I can only gape, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Flabbergasted, blindsided, fucking gobsmacked. What the hell? I look to her with a raised brow. She shakes her head just a little then looks away. Ok. So she knew at least some of that. I feel a little… left out? Out of the loop? Out of place? I think it's time to go.

"Em, let me up," I say, making scooting motions.

"Huh?"

"Let me out. I need to go."

"Bella, don't leave," Ali says. I can't decide if she means it or if she just feels like she should say it.

"No, really, this is a family thing," I say quietly while shaking my head.

Em hasn't moved yet; he's just looking at me, considering me with wrinkled brow and squinting eyes.

"Why do you want to leave, Bells?"

"I've done what I can, Em. I got him to talk, I got you here. I don't know how to handle what's happening. Hell, I don't even know what's really going on!"

Edward raises his head and mumbles, "Bella, please."

"No, Edward. I can't stay; I'm no help right now."

Emmett sighs heavily and rises to let me out of the booth. He hugs me and sits back down. Looking at the three best friends I've ever had, I can't decide if I'm hurt or just sad.

"If you need to talk later, any of you, you know I'm there." And I leave before I cry.

Pulling into my driveway, I realize that all of the people I would normally call when I feel this wrecked are not exactly available to me at the moment. No Ali, no Em. No Edward, but, to be honest, he's been unavailable for a while. No Jas because, apparently, I fucked that up, too. I knew helping Ed would make him uncomfortable, I did. I just didn't think it would push his buttons this hard. I should have listened. I suck at paying attention.

Just as I feel myself descending further into the muck that is my shitty decision-making, there is a loud knock on the window next to my head. The scream I let loose is stopped only by the swearing I grit out when I hit my head.

"Damn it, Jake! What the hell?"

"Sorry. God. You looked like you were crying; I was worried. Nevermind," my brother says, a little hurt, as he walks back toward the house.

"Jake, no, wait. It's ok, really. Horrible day. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Sorry about your head," he calls back to me, never slowing his stride. Shit, I pissed him off, too. I am a menace.

"Jake! Please, stop. I need to, uh, talk?"

"To me?" he asks incredulously, turning ever so slowly to face me.

"Yeah?"

"Not Seth?"

"Uh, no. Seth still thinks I'm awesome," I smirk cockily, then frown, unable to keep up even that small pretense of normalcy within the confines of this day. "I'd like to keep it that way for a little longer."

Jake walks back to me and puts his hands on his hips as he towers over me, real concern on his face. "That bad?"

"Worse."

"C'mon. Let's go talk in my room. No one will ever look for you there."

He's so very, very right. It is a well-known fact in the Swan household, and among those who frequent it, that I am deathly afraid to enter Jacob's room. The smell, the mountains of clothes which can only be dirty because clean clothes don't stand on their own like that, the threats of bodily harm and embarrassing stories that will follow me for a lifetime if I dare break the sanctity of his lair. Yeah, all that; not going in without an invite. Or at gunpoint. Or when hiding from the world.

"What's up?" he asks, flopping onto what I assume is his bed. Throwing his leg out toward a pile of … something … in front of his desk, he kicks clear the crap to reveal a chair. "Sit."

"Thanks. Kinda gross, Jake, but I'm too worn out to care."

"What happened, Bells?"

"Don't know where to start. Too much going on, none of it good. I messed up, I guess. A lot." I stared down at my fingers, partly to avoid looking at the scariness surrounding me in this room, partly to avoid seeing Jake staring at me.

"Bells, you're the one who wanted to talk. So, talk." That's Jake; right to the point.

"Ok. Well, you know how Edward has seemed so distant…"

I tell him the whole sordid tale. Edward, the drinking, Emmett and Rose, Jasper being pissed, Ali keeping things from me, me doing everything I can to help everyone and being shut out for it. All of it.

"Do you even know how selfish you sound?" Jake asks me, almost casually, like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

"_What_?"

"Did it occur to you that Eddie might have been throwing signs your way for a while now? Or maybe it wasn't you, maybe it was Ali. She _is_ his sister, you know. You just paid so much attention to how much you wanted him. Sounds like Emmett and his girlfriend are fighting about _you_. Why? Just let it go. They aren't any of your business. Just let Emmett be happy, Bella. He stays away from here for a reason."

"Jake, I haven't-"

"No, you wanted to talk to me. This is what I have to say. And J, shit. I'd be pissed, too."

"Why?" I ask in a whisper. I don't think I want to know why.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't help your friend. I think he's wrong about that part. But you could have told him differently, don't you think? Could have explained, maybe even acknowledge he had a point. Did you do that?"

"Not really, I guess. I needed his help; I was kind of focused on Ed."

"Exactly. You needed, you think, you want. Selfish."

"You really think I'm selfish?"

"Only sometimes. Usually, you're pretty cool for a girl. When it comes to Eddie, though, you've always had tunnel vision," he says with a smirk. Sitting up, knocking shit all over the floor just with that simple movement, he scoots closer to me. "You gonna get over that?"

"I thought I had, Jake."

"Maybe not completely," he answers, shaking his head a little.

"What do I do to fix the shitstorm I've created, oh wise one?"

"Hell, I don't know," Jake laughs. He grows more serious as I eyeball him with my big sister skills. "I'd start with Ali, I think. She needs you more than the others do. She'll fall apart if both you and Eddie are off limits. She'll need you to hold her up, contain the crazy, all that other girly shit you do for each other."

"I don't think they want me too involved, Jake."

"Why? Because she didn't tell you every single little detail that she knew? You're close, I know. But do you tell her every single little detail that goes on around here? Everything? I hope not, 'cause some of my shit needs to stay private. Seth would die if he thought that you told her about the things he says during your little talks."

"You know about those? I ask, surprised.

"About them? Yeah. What you guys talk about? Not really. Not my business. See my point?"

"Yeah. I always thought Seth was the smart one," I sigh smiling.

"Me, too. I've always been the sexy one."

"Oh, my God," I groan as I throw something…crunchy?… at him. "And Jas? What do I do there, Jake? I need to fix that," I ask, hoping for one more wise answer.

"Hell if I know," he replies. "You fucked that up really good. Try groveling. That usually works for me."

**A/N: Kind of short, but a good place to stop. Thank you all for your patience. Long story. BY THE WAY, you awesome people, The Lists won the Energize Award! Thank you so much for those who voted! It is an amazing encouragement!**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Don't own Twilight.**

"Ali."

"_Bella."_

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left like that."

"_It's ok. You probably did the right thing." _Ouch. I know the truth of that, but it still stings. I'm just too used to being wrapped up in what I thought was every part of their lives.

"Yeah. So, are you ok?"

"_Not really, but I will be. It's all just a bit much, you know. I'm doing the best I can."_

"Yeah. Listen, Ali-"

"_No, look, I'm sorry too, Bells. I really am. I know we tell each other everything, but he's my brother. I just couldn't. Please don't be mad at me."_

"Alice. Stop. It's ok. I understand."

"_Really?"_

"Really, Some things just aren't my business. I get that now."

"_Is this really Bella Swan?"_

"Believe it or not, Jake is the one who set me straight. Weird."

"_Are you for real?"_

"Went into his room for the heart to heart and everything."

"_Wow, Bells. You must have been really desperate!" _she laughs. Glad to hear that sound.

"I was, Ali. I felt like shit when I got home. Why didn't you tell me I was so selfish, you bitch?"

"_Because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, you slut."_

And we laugh giddily together just like we would have last week or yesterday, before all the shit that we let get in between us. It has never been, and will never be, in doubt that we unconditionally have each other's back. I realize now that I've been a monster that she helped create. I dished it out, and she ate it up. I liked being the one in control, and I'm pretty sure Ali was comforted by the freedom of not having to make the decisions. But the good, just amazing, part of our particular brand of mutual enabling? We understand the motives and love hidden behind the flaws.

"Can I ask how they are?" I'm more nervous at this moment, asking her this one question, than at all the other strained moments between us since the day we met all rolled into one. I have never, never been more afraid to say something to this girl. I'm glad we're on the phone. I think facing her as I ask this would be too hard for me. We seem to have mended the fence between the two of us, but I don't know how much any of them want me involved in this family pain.

"_You don't have to ask permission, Bella. Not ever. We still love you. Nothing has really changed; you just know there are some things you don't know. Or something like that. Ok?"_

"Yeah, ok. So? Has Emmett beat him up yet? Should I try to talk to them?"

"_Uh, no, I don't think that would be a good idea right now. They're both a little wired. And I think it's just a matter of when, not if, Emmett beats the shit out of our boy."_

"Oh, Ali. What happened?" Falling back into the giving of support is easy. She still needs me, and though I can accept that it might be a bit selfish, it is also a relief. Because, you know, I need her, too. I flop back onto my bed and just listen.

"_We came home not long after you left. Em got Mom and Dad to sit down and calmly told them he was here to support Edward. Then he made Ed tell them what was going on. Ed kind of expected Em to tell them, I think, because he got really pissy when he had to do it himself. Told ME to leave the room. Can you IMAGINE? Like that was EVER going to happen. But Emmett, well, Emmett left when Edward started his attitude bullshit. Even I didn't know how much Em has been covering for him, and Edward just keeps dumping on him. You want to talk about selfish? I love my brother, but even with all he's going through right now, the way he treated Emmett today was way wrong." _She gets all this out at lightning speed, fast even for her. Mary Alice is pissed.

"How did Carlisle and Esme take it?

"_Mom cried, but she didn't seem surprised. Dad was so sincerely disappointed that it hurt ME. I think they both knew to some extent what he was up to, just maybe not to this degree." _She sighs, and I hear her sniffling. She continues quietly_, "Dad had the name of a rehab place in Seattle in his wallet, Bella. They're trying to convince him to go. He keeps changing his mind. Why could my dad see it, but I couldn't?"_

"I don't know, Ali. Ed's always been really good at hiding the things he doesn't want us to know. Always. Why don't you let him shoulder some of the blame?"

"_You would never have said that a month ago_," she says, surprised.

"I know. I guess my perspective has changed."

"_Things do look different from the back of a motorcycle, don't they_," she giggled. Love that sound, but it can't bring a smile to my face right now.

"I fucked that up so badly," I manage to choke out as I start to cry again. I hate fucking crying, and I've done it all day long. She notices.

"_Crying over a guy, Bella? That's not like you."_

"Can't help it," I gasp.

"_I'm coming over." _Twink to the rescue.

"NO. Your family needs you there. I'll be ok."

"_Bullshit."_

"Yeah, it is. But just let me wallow while I try to figure it out."

"_Call him."_

"Scared to."

"_Do it anyway."_

"Maybe."

"_Call me after you call him. Because you know you will."_

"'Kay. Love you. Don't forget that I'm here if you need me."

"_I'll never forget that. Love you, too."_

I stare at my cell, knowing she's right. I will call him; I just have to figure out what the hell I'm going to say. I still don't think I was wrong in trying to help out my friend when he obviously needed it. I _am_ sorry that I didn't handle it better when I spoke to Jas. I _am_ sorry I didn't take how he felt about Ed seriously enough. I can apologize for hurting Jasper, but I can't apologize for helping Edward. Not sure how well that's going to go with my cowboy. All I can do is be honest; that's all he's ever really expected.

I dial. The phone rings. It goes to voicemail. "Jas, it's me. Give me a call."

I can't sit still while I wait for his now-familiar ringtone, so I clean my room. Then I file my nails. Then I paint them. Then I paint my toenails, too. Black, like my mood.

I dial. The phone rings. It goes to voicemail. "Jas, it's Bella. Please call when you get this. We need to talk."

I hear my dad come home; he had a late night. Mom hates it when he misses dinner with the family, so on his late nights, dinner is at eight. I've been so wrapped up in my own personal drama that I don't even remember hearing Mom and Seth come home. We eat, and it's normal. The boys are ravenous pigs, my parents ask interested and interesting questions about our lives. I think I fake normality pretty well and then escape back to the privacy of my room to continue waiting. And waiting.

I dial. The phone rings. It goes to voicemail. "Please. Please, just call me."

It's not the first time I've ever fallen asleep with my phone on my pillow. It just might be the first time I've been this desperate for it to ring.

I awake having apparently made the decision in my sleep to not go to school. Fuck school. I simply cannot do school. It's already 7:45 anyway, so I can't make it in time no matter what. I text Ali to let her know.

_No school for me - B_

_Going to P.A.? - Ali Cullen_

_Yes. He never called - B_

_Go get ur boy - Ali Cullen_

Dressing quickly in jeans, a t-shirt and my leather jacket - have to use everything I have, right? - I sprint to the kitchen for coffee and a Pop Tart so I can get the hell to Port Angeles. Mom, though, she wants to talk.

"Why aren't you at school? Does it have anything to do with why you were crying all evening?"

"Do you have to see everything?"

"When it comes to my kids, I do my best."

I'm… it's just… Edward, Jas, Ali…every damn thing, Mom. I've messed up so much, but I'm trying to fix things."

"Oh, Bella. Can I help, sweetheart?"

"No. Not yet. I made this mess, I have to clean it up. Can we, can we talk when I get home, though?"

"Anytime. I'll be early; it's my short day. Be careful," she says, kissing me as I grab my keys off the counter and head out the door. I'm grateful that, as usual, she knows what I need and lets me go.

The ride to Pete's Garage is both way too long and far too short. I can't wait to see Jas, but I still can't think of the right words to say. I'm hoping the words just come to me. Winging it should work out just fine. Right. I pull up into the lot and slide hesitantly out of my truck. Everyone looks up and then quickly away. Not good.

"UB? What are you doing here, baby girl?" I am enveloped in a most welcome hug by Sketch, who leans down and whispers in my ear as he spins me, "He is some kind of pissed. What happened? You alright?"

"I'm fine. God, Sketch, I fucked up."

"Yeah, I got that from the shithead back there throwing wrenches around my shop." He lets me go and I step back. "You been crying?"

"No," I sniffle. Come on, not again.

"I am gonna bust his ass for making you cry, baby girl," Pete says very quietly and moves to stomp toward the shop.

"Pete! No! No, it's my fault,' I say, grabbing his arm before he can get too far. "Leave him alone."

"Bella, did you cheat?"

"What? No! Shit, Pete. No, I didn't cheat," I hiss. I'm offended.

"Then he'll forgive you, baby girl. It'll be alright." He seems so confident. I wish I could be.

"We'll see. He's here?"

"Yeah. Let me go get him. Go wait in my office. He'll hate doing this in front of everybody."

I can't sit still. After an hour in the truck and with all of this pent up anxiety, I have to move, fidget, pace. I have my back turned to the door, simultaneously disgusted and fascinated by the nudie calendar that looks like it has been tacked to the wall behind Pete's desk for longer than I've been alive, when Jas walks in. I know it's him because I feel the walls cave a little at the force of his anger.

"What are you doin' here, Bella?" Not happy to see me at all.

"I'm sorry. I know we had an agreement not to just pop up, but you didn't answer my calls-"

"Because I don't wanna talk to you right now." He walks farther into the room, but not toward me. Grabbing a rag out of his back pocket, he wipes his hands roughly, wringing and twisting the dirty, red material. He never takes his eyes off of me, as if he wants the assurance that I'm not coming any closer. "Not answering the phone was a clue, don't you think?"

"You're still mad." It's a stupid thing to say. I knew he was mad; the unanswered calls _were_ a clue. But I had no idea he was _this_ angry.

"Ya think?" he snaps. Sitting down on the truly horrifying couch against the wall farthest from me, he takes his time pulling a cigarette from the pack he keeps in his workshirt pocket, lighting it, inhaling, exhaling, all the while watching me watch him. Through the haze of smoke that surrounds that beautiful face turned cold by anger, he asks, "Why are you here?"

"I want to apologize, Jas. I need to. I handled that whole situation wrong."

"Is that right?" Unforgiving. Hadn't someone told me that about him? Hinted at it, anyway. I'm starting to believe it.

"Yes, Jas. I shouldn't have called you about the rehab place. I should have thought about how much you would hate me being there with Edward. I was just so shocked. And you were the first person to come to mind."

He finally lowers his gaze and looks at the floor, arms coming to rest on his knees. "So, you found out golden boy is an addict. A what? A fuckin' junkie? And my name instantly flashed through your mind. Well, _Babe_, nice to know I made such an impression," he sneers, the endearment reaching out of his mouth like a slap.

"That isn't what I meant, Jasper!" I find myself getting closer, needing to touch him, make him understand. "I meant, I needed help, I needed someone I could trust, someone who would _help_ me. You!" I reach out to run my fingers through his hair, an action that can calm us both. He jerks away before my fingers can make contact.

"Don't, just don't." He stands and again moves away from me. Without looking at me, which I now know is worse than the cold stare, he says, "I asked for almost nothin', ya know? Be honest, don't mess around, and stay away form that kid. That was it, all I asked for."

"Jas." He turns when I say his name. It's a plea, really, and I am glad that he at least acknowledges it.

"This is why, Bella," he says matter-of-factly. "This is why I never do the whole relationship thing. Can't trust people."

"Jas, how can you be this mad when all I did was help a friend? Two friends, actually. Ali needed me as much as Ed did. And I didn't hide it from you; I told you right away! After I called you, I called Emmett, and I only stayed until he got there. Then I left." My voice has been getting louder and louder, and I take a deep breath to calm down. "Just because I was there for my friends doesn't mean you can't trust me. He's NOT a threat! He doesn't need me anymore, anyway. I don't know what else to say to make you understand."

"I understand that no matter how much shit he piles on you, you keep finding your way back to him. I heard a lot about you, even before we met, from Emmett. Rose knew the first time she met you. I should have listened. It's too easy for you to wrap yourself up in him. Even when I ask you not to. You're with me for now. What about next week? What if he wants you then? What if he _needs_ you again? I can't do it, Bella."

"Jas, please. Please don't." The tears are so close to the surface. I look down as I fight them off, but I can't fight my need to be closer to him any longer. Reaching up to grab the back of his neck with one hand, I rest the other by his heart.

"Go home, Bella." He pulls back, my arms slipping from around his neck, falling away from his chest. He walks away and doesn't look back. Unforgiving.

Pete must have been watching because before I can process what just happened, he is there, and I am in his arms. I'm too stunned to cry anymore, though.

"Thanks, Sketch. I'm just going to go home, now. Thanks for everything."

"This ain't goodbye, UB. You'll be back, because he'll come around."

"No. He won't. Bye, Pete."

"Call me, Sugar. Let me know how you are." I give him a smile that is so fake, I think it insults him. His naturally happy face is sad. "He'll call, Bella. Just give him time."

**A/N: Don't hate me! It ain't over yet!**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: At long last, the next chapter…**

It is utterly impossible to feel good about yourself while you have a sticky spoon in one hand and a pint of mint chocolate chip in the other. Self esteem levels continue to plummet when you're wearing rolled sweats and a choco-stained beater. Any sense of superficial self worth bottoms out when you're rocking a bunch of knotted hair clumped together in a ball on the top of your head that is gathered in a rubber band you found in the junk drawer. I don't feel pretty today. I suck. Saturdays suck. Ali sucks for trying to take away my ice cream.

"Can you BE any more cliché? Ice cream and sweats? Should we put in _500 Days of Summer _or _Bridget Jones Diary_? Oh, my God, Bells!"

"You suck."

"Bella! Seriously? Go shower, - ew, by the way - and get dressed."

"Getting dressed sucks."

"Bella," she sighs, frustrated, hands on hips.

"Bella sucks," I mumble.

"Yeah, I've heard that." All I can muster in response is a glare. But, you know, it's one hell of a wicked glare.

"Alice, please just leave me alone. I am not prepared to mingle with the masses today."

"I can tell. Tough shit, Bella. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS! You've moped around for about as long as you two were together." I glare again; we do not talk about him. "What? I can't bring up the guitar-playing elephant in the room? It's not Fight Club, Bella. We have to talk about it some time."

"No. I just want to wallow, self-loathingly, in the filth I've created of my life," I whine. Yes, whine. I can admit it. Another very big mouthful of cold, minty goop gives me brain freeze. Whatever - it fits with the pained expression I am trying to shoot in Ali's direction, anyway. She just rolls her perfectly-lined eyes and flops down on the couch beside me.

"Bella, please," she whispers.

"I just miss them. All of them. And it's my fault that they're not around."

"Oh, shut _up_." She says this almost casually, like it's been on the tip of her tongue for a while. I'm guessing that maybe it has. Rolling her head to look at me, her eyes are hard. And they see right through me and my self-perpetuated dramatic bullshit. "Stop dodging stones that nobody is throwing. No one but YOU blames you for ANY of this. Well, except for Jas, and HE'S being a douche bag."

"Ali-"

"NO. You are going to listen to me, then you are going to march your martyr-complex ass up those stairs, shower, and dress in something sexy yet appropriate. Are we clear?"

By now she has risen from her seat and is pointing a long, manicured fingernail dangerously close to my eye. I nod. Carefully.

"Good," she begins. "First, we have established by mutual agreement that Ed did this to himself. A case of emo-angst defiance gone haywire. Rehab in Seattle is the best and ONLY place for him right now. I miss him, too," she says, her voice going soft. "It's like a piece of me is missing, like a phantom arm or something. Like, I can _feel_ him; I just can't _see_ him. This one's mine, Bella. This pain, I get to keep for me."

"You are so right. You're so much stronger than me," I tell her, ashamed of myself.

"No, not really. I just cope by being bossy and fabulous, rather than with frozen treats and dirty hair."

"And you do it so well," I assure her with a smile.

"Thanks, but I'm not done. Second," she states, thrusting two fingers in the air like a peace sign, "Em and Rose are spending time together trying to work things out. They are NOT avoiding you, or us, for any particular reason. Besides, I'm the reason they were fighting, not you. It was _about _you, but I stirred up _that_ shit storm. I should have just kept my drunk-ass mouth shut."

"You were defending me, Ali, as usual," I remind her.

"Yeah, that too, but really, I was just pissed. I'm not entirely sure I like her, I guess. Whatever." She moves to stand in front of me, as if to block any plans of busting any running moves I might have stashed up my sleeve. "And third. Are you ready? Listen closely. Jas is overreacting. You didn't deserve the cold-hearted break up. You were honest, and you apologized for making him uncomfortable. What are you supposed to do? Perfect a blind obedience to his controlling ass? No. His mistake, his loss, his problem."

Eyes wide, mouth open, I just stare at her for a beat, finally processing all she's said. She _must_ have had this on her mind for a long time. And, you know, she's right, as usual. Why has it taken me so long to see? I guess I'm finally tired of being unhappy. "Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yes. Ok. You're right. Hell, Ali. When did I turn into such a girl?"

"Thank God! I was beginning to think the new and unimproved you was here to stay. That would have been very, very bad. I don't think the cops would have taken 'She's broken' as an excuse for murder."

"No, Alice, that's not usually an accepted murder defense," my dad says from the living room archway. He is sporting a suspiciously satisfied grin under his mustache. "I'm glad she listened to reason before we had to formulate a foolproof alibi for you."

"Me, too, Charlie. I'm too perky for prison," she deadpans. Turning back to me she orders, "Shower, missy!"

As I step upward with a new bounce, or an old bounce I haven't used in a while, I peek back over at the two conspirators. They share a smile and a wink, and I realize that new unimproved Bella never stood a chance.

Tying up my Chucks forty-five minutes later, I finally complete the process of rejoining the land-of-those-who-give-a-shit. I'm checking myself out in the mirror when my cell rings. Smoothing my low pony tail over my right shoulder one last time, I answer it and hear an unexpected voice.

"_Hey, baby girl! Did you forget me?"_

"Peter! Hi!" I actually don't know what else to say. He was serious about keeping in touch?

"_Peter? Really? Do I have to call you Bella now? That's so… boring."_

"No, of course not, Sketch. How's tricks?"

"_Magic, as always. How are you? Doing all right?_

"Yeah, I really am. Miss you, though."

"_You'll have to come see me."_

"Maybe," I hedge. No fucking way I'm going to that garage.

"_I'm not the only one around here who wouldn't mind seeing your face," _he gently pushes.

"What? Scary eyebrow and all?" I decide to joke it away.

"_If you insist on bringing it with you_," he laughs.

"Maybe, Sketch."

"_UB, he's falling apart." _Just like that, blurts it right at me. Subtle, Pete is not.

"Nothing I can do about that. He made this choice."

"_Baby girl, he-"_

"Nope. I'm sorry, Pete, but I can't let you plead his case. I tried. I called for four days. I texted for over a week. I'm finally giving up. I'm not what he wants, and I can't keep chasing him. It's just not who I am." I do NOT tell him that I only realized that little bit of truth less than an hour ago.

"_I'm just trying to fix this. It's wrong. I've never seen him so happy before. He lo-"_

"Oh, hell no. Stop. You can call me whenever you want, Pete, but not about him. If he wants to talk, he has my number. Got it?" My breathing has picked up; my heart is pounding.

"_I do. I got it. I promise." _he sounds defeated and chastised. Not a good fit for Sketchy Pete.

"Mkay. Gotta go. Me and Ali are headed out. I'll talk to you soon."

"_Promise? Don't lie to an old man, now."_

"Old? What are you, like twenty-six?" I giggle.

"_Twenty-nine, God help me," _he sighs.

"I promise, old man. Bye."

"_Bye, baby girl." _

I stare at the phone, then put it away. No dwelling today. I'm pretty sure Ali won't stand for it.

Ali refuses to tell me where we're going. Forks is ten square inches of total predictability, and she is somehow managing to keep me in the dark. Shouldn't actually be possible. However, even Mary Alice Cullen cannot reframe the laws of physics or cartography, and I am soon painfully aware of our destination. I liked it better when I didn't know where the hell we were going.

"The diner? This is your big, secret, highly-orchestrated plan to relaunch me into society? The diner?"

"Well, I'm sorry, Bella. We could always go to the Lodge, but I didn't want to run into all of my dad's buddies. They either tell me they can't believe I'm so grown up or comment about my vertical disadvantage. Either way, it's no fun. Anyway, it took so long to get your mopey ass out of the house that it's just too late to go out of town. I have a date tonight, you know."

"Don't get huffy. The diner is fine. Boring, but fine. Welcome to Forks, right?"

We pile out of the Volvo (Ali is finally driving it now that Edward isn't sitting in the passenger seat making fun of how close she has to sit to the steering wheel) and clump unenthusiastically into the diner. I feel a bit nervous. The last time I was in here, things kind of went to hell. The staring kids don't exactly lend me a sense of calm, either.

"Why the are they staring now?"

"You've spent the last two weeks auditioning for a starring role in a teenage break up drama. Looked like shit: baggy clothes, messy hair, scowly face. Today, well, you look hot, like you."

"I'd be surprised if they weren't secretly enjoying it. 'How the mighty have fallen' and all that," I snip as we ease into a booth by the big window in the back.

"Still so negative," she sighs. "I'm sure they are feeling a little snarky joy at our current situations. Our little group _has_ had its share of meltdowns lately. But every school has the 'in' crowd. We're there to be loved AND hated. Most people genuinely like you and me, though, anyway. I think these guys are staring because they're happy to see you get back to your old self."

"And they like us why?" I ask smiling at her, expecting her to expound upon our awesomeness.

"Because you two are so sickeningly nice to _every_body." Both of our heads swivel to the side to confirm that we heard who we think we heard.

"What are you doing?" I ask Jessica as she shoves me farther into the booth, sitting beside me.

"I'm sitting with you. This is apparently our table. The 'in' crowd, remember?" she smirks.

"Eavesdropping, Jess?" asks Ali, glaring prettily across the table.

"I was standing there since you sat down. Not my fault you didn't notice me."

"What do you want? We aren't exactly friends, Jess. You aren't stopping by our table to chat."

"Fine. I just wanted to ask how Edward is doing. You seem a tad more human today than you have lately, Bella, and I thought this might be as good a time as any. Public place and everything."

Ali and I both laugh a little.

"Where's Lauren? You two are as attached as we are," Ali says, then pauses. "Oh, shit, Bells. Are we as creepy as they are? We're not, are we?"

"Sweet Jesus, Al, topic for another day! I can only deal with one mindfuck at a time."

"What's the first mindfuck?"

"Jessica is sitting next to me, asking me questions about your brother."

"Oh, yeah."

"Lauren's here, at a table up front. She was, uh, scared to come over here," Jessica explains reluctantly.

"And you're not?" I ask. I can't help it; she brings out the bitch in me.

"No. I'm not scared of you."

"But you're nervous. Shaking over there, asking us about my brother," Ali observes.

"So?" Jess asks, rolling her eyes. You'd think she's be used to us by now; we've only all known each other for ever.

Ali huffs out a breath, puffing out her cheeks in the process. "We aren't allowed to go see him yet. Dad has been, and my mom is going soon. I can't go until he's gotten to thirty days. Even then, I'm not so sure he'll be ready to see me."

"I'm sorry, Alice. I know this has to be killing you," Jess says sympathetically, shocking us both. She notices our eyes widen. Tearily, she tells us, "I know you both hate me, but I'm not heartless. I loved him, you know. We were together for a couple of years, give or take. Plus, I was your friend once, too. Maybe you guys have forgotten that."

"We haven't forgotten, Jess," Ali says quietly.

"Although, we have tried." Ali kicks me under the table. Her damn bleeding heart. Gonna make me be nice. Sigh. "I get it, Jess. I do. I know it's hard for you, too." There, that's as much as I have in me for her.

"Thanks," she says in what I think is an honest appreciation. Huh. "Will you let me know how he's doing? I don't need details; I just want to know he's all right. I still feel so responsible." The tears are quietly falling.

"Responsible? Why?" Ali is on alert.

"I knew something was wrong. He changed so dramatically, far beyond what a little weed would explain, more than the occasional drunk night. I just should have known sooner. I should have," she heaves out. She's trying to control it and just can't. "And then, when I _knew_ he was using, I wanted to tell, I really did, but I was so afraid he would leave me. In the end, he did leave, didn't he, so my silence didn't matter at all. I finally got up the nerve, but by then you two had figured it out. I just thought it would be better coming from you guys. I fucked up, so much."

"Not your fault, Jessica. This is on him. Would it have changed anything if you had known any sooner? Really?"

"No. I think he would have dumped me sooner," she laughs with absolutely no humor.

"See? Not your fault."

Ali grumbles, "NOW you get it."

"Alright, fine. I'm slow. Whatever."

"Huh?" Jess is puzzled, though she has stopped leaking.

"Nevermind," I tell her.

"And, yes, Jess, we'll keep you informed."

"Thanks. Really. Well, see you Monday," she says as she leaves the booth and heads back over to a seriously confused Lauren.

"What just happened?" I ask no one in particular. Ali answers, though.

"I wish I knew. I think we were all just sorta nice to each other. Weird."

"See? This is what happens when you make me put away my ice cream and sweats."

**A/N: I hope there are still a few of you left out there who care about this story. I sincerely apologize for my epic updating failure. Good news is the next chapter is already underway. Jas steps back into the picture, too. About 4-5 chapters left. **


	33. Chapter 33

So sorry this is not a chapter, but there is no other way to respond to cowardly bitches who cuss me out anonymously. I really am trying to finish the final edit on the next chapter. Please understand that I LOVE my loyal readers for your enthusiasm, your encouragement, and your patience at the mercurial whim and inspiration of a first time writer. But some people…

Dear Guest,

What the fuck is going on is that both an aunt who helped raise me and my only remaining grandfather both died within weeks of each other. Both after painful battles with cancer. In fact, my grandfather died this morning, so thanks for making my day better with your well thought out, critically considered, constructive review. Sorry my grief has gotten in the way of your reading enjoyment.

Also, my son is graduating in a few weeks and I have been spending time with him before he leaves me for college. Again, I know you come first, so I beg your forgiveness.

Thank you for reminding me of my priorities. What could I have been thinking? Promise I'll put my funereal travel plans on hold so I can churn out a mediocre chapter for you. And, please, continue venting judgmental, petulant bullshit before you know any details of a situation you feel chaps your ass. I totally respect that about you.

Sincerely,

Shirleypositive72


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: You will never know how much the support you have shown me in the last couple of months has meant to me. I simply cannot express how touched and encouraged I have felt because of your kind words, prayers, and good thoughts. And the way many of you jumped to my defense? Y'all had me laughing and crying. I failed miserably at responding to you individually, but please accept this as an open love letter to you all! Thank you so, so very much. And please know, I'm not a quitter!**

"And you ran into him WHERE? And where was I?" screeches Ali. I really have explained all of this already. Twice. But looking into those big blues as she cuddles Fiona on the floor at the end of my bed, I can't deny her one more retelling.

"At Coog's, the record store on Front Street. You were with Mike doing unspeakable things. He's at UPA now. I can't believe Emmett's never run across him." Riley isn't exactly the football type, and he's not pre-med. He's younger than Em, too, a freshman, so I can see how their paths might not cross. "Do you think Em would even know him?"

"Emmett? He always went full-on Sherlock on all our boyfriends back in the day, you know. He was cool about it, but he made sure he checked them out. He'd know each and every one of them. No doubt, Bells, he'd recognize Riley."

Flopping down on my stomach across my bed, bouncing slightly as the mattress settles, I groan into my pillow, "Am I making a mistake, Ali? Going out with Riley? I mean, we have a past, blah blah blah." I exhale in a gust, unsure of what I really want to say. My brains are scrambled. Two months of one dating disaster after another will do that to a girl.

First was Marcus, the son of a country club friend of Carlisle's, who is actually a nice guy. Too bad nice guys don't really do anything for me. Like, nothing at all. I only went out with him because I figured it was the most effective way to shut Alice the hell up about moving on. Once she found out Marcus had asked me out, she was campaigning non-stop for this get-back-on-the-horse date to happen. But Marcus took one look at my date night ensemble - short dress, Chucks, heavy eyeliner - and realized I am, in fact, not exactly like the girl I pretend to be when I play tennis at the club with Ali and Esme. We were both disappointed. That one was probably my fault. False advertising, but when it comes down to it, I gotta be me.

I actually kind of understood Dimitri. A Russian exchange student, he was looking to pump up his cred. Dating a popular girl must have seemed the way to do that. Good plan, except that I'm not your typical popular girl; at least, more like the John Hughes version than the type Dimitri thought he was getting. I, on the other hand, was just looking for someone who didn't know my life story but wouldn't freak out when I opened the door in my date uniform, and was also willing to buy me some dinner. Neither one of us was in the least bit interested in the other as a person. We were both at fault, and we spent a quietly miserable evening, just waiting for it to end.

That Caius dude, though, he was bat shit crazy all on his own. He did not even need me around for that particular evening to become a certified, documented, notarized clusterfuck. That catastrophe was entirely his fault. A friend of one of Dad's deputies, I thought he'd be another safe but boring date. Oh, so, so, so wrong. He didn't like to talk while he drove, or listen to the radio, or have noise of any kind, so the trip into Port Angeles lasted forever. And then, why would a vegan even go to a restaurant called Michaels Seafood & Steakhouse? Did the "Steakhouse" part not clue him in? Having a pissy attitude with the waiter and then arguing with the manager were two of this guy's more fun moments. Walking down by the water and hinting that I should give him my sweater because he was cold was a bit unexpected, I have to admit. By the end of the evening, I was pretty convinced that there was more than one voice in his head, and the one who liked me stayed home that night.

There were a few others, none of whose names or faces really register with me anymore. Basically nice, decent guys whose only real fault was that none of them, not one of them, was Jas.

None of them made me want to brush the hair off of his forehead because it always falls over observant blue-green eyes; none of them made me want to smell his skin because the scent is so uniquely _him_; none of them made me want to listen raptly to his voice to try to catch the always underlying melody; none of them, not one of them, made me want to rush headlong into an unexplainably intense relationship, consequence be damned. None of them, not one of them, was Jas.

But one of them is Riley, and we have a date on Saturday. What the hell am I doing? Ali tries to convince me that I'm not being stupid for the remainder of the week. Jessica, who seems to be hanging around with us more and more often, pulls a pinched face when she hears Riley's name at lunch on Friday.

"Biers? Riley _Biers_?"

"Who?" Lauren, who is, as usual, less than three feet away from Jess, asks her, seemingly totally lost.

"Cute, tame, quiet little Riley, remember? He and Bella dated before he moved. A couple of years ago." Ali makes me stop growling with a pinch to the bicep. Ow. That shit hurts.

"Oh. He was her first blow job," Lauren says, completely matter-of-fact, totally engrossed in perfecting the ketchup-to-fry ratio on her lunch plate.

"I didn't know that," pouts Jess.

"I did," giggles Alice.

"How did YOU know that?" I whisper-yell at Lauren. We're trying to keep the lunchroom pointing and staring down to a minimum these days.

She looks insulted. "I know shit." Ok. That totally explains it.

"Whatever," I grumble, flopping back in my chair, crossing my arms like a petulant four year old. "Why that reaction to Riley, Jess?"

"I don't know. I guess, just, why?" she shrugs.

"He's a nice guy," I defend.

"You don't like nice guys," Jess counters. I have to give that one to her. "You like guys like-" Ali cuts her off. We must never speak of the one I never stop thinking about.

"He's a good guy, Jess. He was always so good to Bella. He's cool," Ali tells her, still trying to convince me, I think.

"Yeah, he's cool. Fun, funny, he likes a lot of the same things as me. He's hot, too. Plus, he's familiar," I add, still trying to not think about calloused fingers and a smart ass smirk.

"No. He's safe," Lauren declares. And damn if she isn't right. She _does_ know shit.

"A date with who?" Jake asks incredulously five minutes before Riley is due to pick me up, around noon on Saturday.

"You heard me, Jake. Don't be an ass when he gets here, please," I plead. I so don't want this date to start off badly. They've all ended that way lately, and I'd just like to at least pretend this one has a fighting chance of being not-awful. Besides, Riley doesn't deserve to go through the customary grilling. He's been through it once already.

"Fine, fine. But Riley? Really?"

"What does everyone have against him?" This attitude from everybody is getting irritating.

"Nothing against him," pipes in Seth. "I just don't get it. You weren't really all that into him when you were dating before he left."

I flop down onto the couch and throw my head back. I'm not happy with being forced to examine this, but… "No, I liked him just fine. He's not the most exciting guy I've ever met, but I've had my share of exciting guys lately. Riley's nice and fun and he knows me. Why NOT go out with him?"

"'Cause you don't like nice," Seth stage-whispers as he plops down next to me.

"And you LIKE exciting," Jake quips, dropping onto the cushion on my other side.

"I know," I groan, balling my fists in my lap. "But look where that got me. I obviously can't handle what I like, so nice and easy it is. Anyway, Ri moves at a calmer pace than I usually do. It won't hurt to slow down a bit. Drink less, party less, take better care of myself, whatever. You know, live a quieter life for a while, get myself back together." I say this in all seriousness, so I'm a little confused when they both burst into loud, obnoxious laughter.

"Does that explain what you're wearing?" Seth can barely contain his giggles. Yes, giggles.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's chilly out on the water." I think my sweater, scarf, and boots are cute. Ali approved them, so I can't look too bad.

"You look like an LL Bean ad. Is he taking you hiking?" More laughter from Jake. "He is, isn't he?" Uproarious laughter.

"No. We're biking a bit of the ODT in Sequim," I say, trying to project excitement.

"Holy shit. Take pictures, because no one will believe it," Seth chokes out between fresh gales from the two of them.

"I've hiked before. Not funny, guys."

"Oh, Bells, it so is," gasps Jake.

The ringing of the doorbell saves me, and I run to answer it before the sound can draw my father out of hiding. He also is having a hard time wrapping his head around Riley's reappearance. Mom gets it. She told me so, although she had a curiously sad expression on her face when she said it.

"Riley. Hi." Let it never be said that I am not an articulate and welcoming hostess.

"Bella. You look… wow."

He looks good. Like, really good. I can't lie; if he wasn't so fucking hot, we might not be going out tonight, no matter what I might tell myself. He's grown up a lot in the last couple years. When he left Forks, he was definitely cute, don't get me wrong. But now, oh my God. Tall, around six feet, broad shoulders, muscular but not body builder-esque. Riley grew up well. He seems much more confident in himself these days, too, if our half hour conversation in the record store is any indication. Not the same old Riley, but close enough, I hope.

"You ready? We can just go. You don't have to run the gauntlet."

"No, no, it's fine. Everyone here?"

"Oh, yeah," I tell him, opening the door wider to let him in.

Twenty minutes later, after the boys have informed him that they thought they got rid of him already, haha, Dad has reminded him that all the same warnings still apply, and Mom has actually tried to make the boy feel welcomed with some well-timed questions about college, I'm pulling on my raincoat and hat and stuffing my gloves in a pocket. We finally make our way to his car.

"Sweet. When did you get this?" Even I can appreciate a black Mustang.

"Got it for high school graduation. Dad felt guilty about moving so I got this."

"Nice."

Conversation is easy on the drive to the start of the trail. We talk about his classes, his anxiety at having to actually choose a major, how much he likes Port Angeles but still misses Forks. I catch him up on Ali and Mike, Jess and Lauren, his old friends at school. He still keeps in touch with Ben, which surprises me a little. He makes sure I have everything I need in my pack and asks again if I'm cool with the day he has planned.

"Yes, Riley, really. The Trail and dinner sound great. But how are we getting back to your car? Are we biking both ways? And I'm guessing there is bike rental at the head of the trail, right?"

"No worries, Bella. I have it all covered. You'll see." Such a sweet, genuine smile. It's not his fault that I wish there was a lip ring, I guess.

We reach the start of the six mile section of the Olympic Discovery Trail that we are taking on today, and there are bikes waiting for us when we park. A familiar face walks over to Riley.

"Riley! Thought you'd never get here, dude," Eric says, doing the universal-spans-all-social-groups guy handshake hug. Backing up, he looks over to me and says, "Hi, Bella."

"Eric! Oh, hell! What are you doing here?" I can't stop myself from bouncing over to him for a hug. He's always been cool and is part of my crowd. And, even better, Eric knows when to keep his mouth shut. There will be no lunch table gossip from him. Eric, man, he's the keeper of secrets. Like, Ali-Bella secrets. I want to make sure he likes me at all times, just in case.

"Riley asked me to help out a little today. I'm gonna drive the Mustang to the other end of the trail. Ben's there with his car. This baby will be waiting for you at the bike shop," he says, staring ravenously at Riley's car.

"Be nice to my car, Eric. I will hunt you down." Riley's laughing, but he definitely means it.

"Wow, thanks, Eric. I didn't know you all were still hanging out."

"You know me, Bella. I don't tell _every_thing I know."

"And we love you for it," I say, smiling at him.

"Amen," breathes Riley. Interesting. "Thanks for bringing the bikes."

"No sweat. Have fun!" Riley watches Eric like a hawk as he climbs into the driver's seat and speeds away.

"Ready?" he asks, adjusting his pack.

"Let's go," I tell him, hoping he hears the enthusiasm and believes it to be true.

I surprise myself with how much I'm enjoying the trail. It's chilly, no doubt, but it's one of those glorious days that defy all logic. Fifty-five degrees in November with only drizzling rain. The scenery is perfect, and the company is easy.

"This was a great idea, Riley."

"It wasn't what I had planned originally, but when I saw the weather forecast the other day, I couldn't resist at least giving it a try. I was nervous, though. I remember that you love your dirt bike and hiking in LaPush, but I don't really know if you're still an outdoorsy kind of person."

"I'm not, normally, not anymore. But this is amazing; I haven't done anything like this in a long time. Thanks."

"You're welcome," he smiles, looking at me with beautiful blue eyes. The look on his face should inspire some kind of reaction, something, anything. It just… doesn't.

We pedal slowly, taking in the sights, stopping along the way every now and then to inspect things we find interesting, pausing for a while to have some water and snacks from our packs. We take pictures of the trail, the woods, the water, each other, a few together. We talk very little, just enjoying the trip, making it last far longer than is necessary. I do kind of wish I had my iPod, though. And Alice hasn't called. Not once. It's weird, but she is serious about me giving this a chance, I guess. Eventually, we reach the bike shop in Sequim and, just as Eric promised, the Mustang is waiting in the parking lot.

"I need to return the bikes. Want to go in and look around?" Riley seems eager. Once we get inside, I know why. This is his thing. He's in his element. This outdoors, nature stuff is still what gets him revved up. Cool for him, but I don't think I could ever be as excited about a new alloy bike frame as he is right now. After nearly an hour of watching Riley drool over things I care almost nothing about these days, I am truly relieved to hear the word "restaurant" fall from his lips.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he takes my hand and walks me to the passenger door. Not sure how I feel about the hand thing. It doesn't feel _bad_; it just doesn't feel _right_.

"Alder Wood Bistro. It's locally sourced, mostly organic. It's not far from here."

"Are we dressed all right?" I worry that Riley is starting to sound kind of granola. Not terrible, if that's what makes you happy.

"We are just fine, Bella," he assures me with a smile and a wink as he hands me into the car, shutting my door. All I can think about, though, is another wink, someone else's wink, a wink I saw from the audience as I looked up to the stage.

Dinner is amazing. I don't care how granola it sounds, this place is awesome. Over a shared appetizer of wood-fired flat bread with apples, walnuts, and prosciutto for starters, we talk about the bike ride, the restaurant, the food. I have to freaking learn this recipe. It's not until the entrees – Smoked Salmon Pasta Carbonara for me, Mushroom Risotto for him – that I fuck up. It's all going just fine. Then his food comes, mushrooms, and I am instantly taken back to a little Italian restaurant in Port Angeles after an afternoon spent in my truck. With Jasper. Doing naughty things that made me happy. And though I try very hard to hide the melancholy from the really great guy currently sitting across from me, I know he sees it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Ri. I'm fine. Is that good? Mushrooms, yuck."

"I like it. How's yours?" he asks, going along.

"Awesome. I am definitely going to be picking these dishes apart in my head. I'm gonna ask for the menu back so I can take a picture of the descriptions with my phone," I tell him, smiling much too brightly. The smile is a lie, but I'm totally going to take that picture.

"You'll have to invite me over when you perfect it, then," he fishes.

"Mm hmm." It's all I can manage.

"You just broke up with someone, right?" I am floored by that. Floored.

"Eric tell you?" I ask with raised brow. Internal shout out to Sketch.

"Of course not! Ben," he chuckles.

"Should have known," I sigh, looking down at my gorgeous plate of food.

"Hey. Hey, it's ok. I just didn't realize you weren't over this guy. I guess I was hoping, but…" he trails off.

"What do you mean? I've had a great time today!" I really have.

"I know, Bella. I could tell. But you've also gotten this faraway look on your face every so often, like you did just then. It makes sense that maybe you're thinking of someone else."

"How can you say that and not be pissed?" I question, completely amazed by this guy.

"Hasn't been that long since I was right there with you," he smirks.

"Oh, Ri. I'm sorry. About your girl. About my guy," I smirk, too. Someone I used to know taught me how.

"Don't worry about it. Bella, why are you here?" He doesn't snap it out, he doesn't spit the question at me. He isn't judging. He just wants to know.

"I want to be over him. It's time to be over him. And when I ran into you in PA, I thought it was the perfect thing, you know? Someone I already know I like, I get along with, who likes me," I smile.

"Yeah. I kinda thought the same thing. It feels safe, doesn't it? Easy? Us being together, I mean." And I can't help but laugh a little, thinking of Lauren and her stupid wisdom.

"Yeah, it does."

"Are we just friends, Bella?" He asks this with a twinkle in his eye.

"I think we might be, Riley."

"For now."

"Yeah. For now." It's quiet for a moment while we let that sink in.

"So. Tell me about him."

"What?"

"You need to talk, and so do I. You tell me your story, then I'll tell you mine.

And when the waitress brings the two orders of Upside Down Cheesecake, I begin.

"He's a musician. Kind of a tough guy, but a _good_ guy, you know? It was short, but so intense…"

**A/N: This is probably not what you were hoping for, but it felt right to me. Things needed to calm down. Just remember that I am a big believer in happily ever after… Thanks for reading!**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. I do, however, own an electric guitar I have no idea how to play.**

"And then she left me. Sitting in my car, calling her name, confused as hell. I'm still not totally sure what I did wrong."

"Wow, Riley. That sucks. For the record, I didn't hear you say anything that would deserve what she did. Harsh."

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too, but I can only see my side. At least, that's what my mother told me." We both laugh at that. His mom is famous for seeing every side of an argument. It used to be fun winding her up. I can't imagine being her kid, though. "Besides, Bree had some secrets I found out about after she was gone. Maybe I dodged a bullet."

"Does that make it easier?" Maybe if I dwell on the bad things about Jas, I can move on.

"No. Nope, not at all." His sad smile breaks my heart. No wonder Ali has been so worried. I must look just like that. And as if I conjured her with the very thought of her name, my phone blares Katy Perry.

"That has to be Ali. No way you'd have that on your phone for any other reason," Riley laughs.

"Got it in one, dude," I chuckle as I answer.

"_Still on the date?"_

"Hi, Ali. Yes, we're at the restaurant."

"_Ooooh, which one?"_

"Alder Wood. It's awesome."

"_Are sparks flying?"_

"Later, Ali." Riley smiles and waves. "Riley says hi. Talk to you when I get home."

"_Hi back. You better call this time. No getting home then deciding you're too tired to talk, missy."_

"Got it. Bye."

"Some things never change, huh?" Riley has always been highly amused by the weird attachment Ali and I share.

"_Some_ things don't. Other things change beyond all recognition," I say, frowning. This whole day has gone by without any but the most fleeting mention of Edward. He and Riley were not ever friends.

"Eddie?" My eyes widen at that.

"Dude, are you just super observant or are you actually psychic?"

"Haha, no. It's just that you used to bring him up at least once every ten minutes. Today? Not so much," he says, looking me right in the eyes.

"Wow. Was I really that much of a self-centered, delusional bitch?"

"Not a bitch," he laughs.

Chuckling a little at myself, I tell him, "Yeah. Eddie. He always hated your calling him that. For everyone else it was fine, but _you_? Nope."

"I know. That's why I did it."

"None of us is who we used to be, I guess."

"No. Some of us are better." I think he's right.

After I take my menu picture, he drives me home. It's just as pleasant as the trip there, and I realize that I'm happy to have Riley around again. A girl can never have too many friends.

"Look, Bella," he starts as we pull up to my house. That sounds ominous. "I was really hoping that this would go well."

"I thought it did!" Stunned that he said that, really.

"Let me finish, you goof. I meant, I thought it would be a 'rekindle the romance' kind of thing, but I think it went much better as a 'let's be friends and hang out' kind of thing. So, wanna hang out next weekend? Find some music in PA or something? That's still high up on your 'Things to Do List', right?"

My face falls. "Riley, I- "

"It's ok. Never mind," he rushes out.

"Riley, now you're the goof. It's just I'm a bit worried about the PA music scene. I don't really want to run into Jas."

"Oh. Well, we'll be careful to check who's playing. What do you say?"

"I say I'll see you Saturday."

"_You're going out again? Yes!" _Ali is excited when I tell her this fifteen minutes after Riley drives away. She made me tell her the whole day in that short span of time. I'm out of breath.

"It's not like that, Ali. Just friends. We both agreed that for now that's better."

"_What?"_ She sounds a bit dumfounded.

"Friends."

"_Why?"_ Disappointed now.

"Because it is what it is, Al."

"_No_," she whines.

"Yes. Sorry, Al. It's just not going to be anything else."

"_Fine."_ I can hear the pout.

"Alice…"

"_Are you giving up on guys now?"_

"No, not giving up. Just, well, just not going to try so hard, I guess. I'm not ready, no matter how many times we tell each other that I am."

"_Oh, honey."_

"I still miss him, Ali. Talking to Riley about Jas tonight… It's complicated, ok? I thought about him all day, you know. Even when I was having such a great time with Ri, I was thinking about Jas. I just miss him."

"_Ok. I know. I'll stop pushing it. Promise."_

"Thanks."

"_I'm glad you had a good date, though."_

"Riley's a great guy, Ali. He deserves someone who will be good to him."

"_Challenge accepted." _I've made her happy again, given her a goal.

"Oh, hell."

"_See you Monday. Love you!"_

"Good night, Alice. Love you, too."

That went better than I thought it would. Ali loves a happy Bella, but I just can't get there yet. I'm proud of her for letting me hang back until I'm ready. I wish I knew when that would be. I think I'm just going to sleep on it. Getting comfortable in my fluffy bed, snuggled up with Fiona, is easy. Falling asleep is not. After weeks of consciously pushing Jasper to the back of my mind, tonight he roams freely. My mind is full of music as my eyes finally close.

The next thing I know, the sun is streaming in the windows, and Fiona has to go out. Why this furry bunch of wonderful thinks it acceptable to wake me at 8:30 on a Sunday morning is beyond me. Better than a puddle, I guess. Letting Fi out the back door, I see my mother looking rather pensive as she drinks her coffee.

"Morning, Isabella."

"Morning, Mom. Up so early?"

"Your dad was called into work. Couldn't get back to sleep. Fiona need to go out, huh?"

"Yeah. Why else would I be conscious before 10am?" I shuffle over to the coffee maker that is more than half full of that life giving dark liquid of the gods. I love it when someone else gets up first.

"What's going on, Bella?" Her sharp, exasperated tone is something unusual. Not unknown, I mean, she_ is_ the mother of three teenagers, but it certainly isn't her normal way of asking a question.

"What are you talking about?" I really am stumped, both by her question and by her manner.

"Since when are you a serial dater?' Oh, that. "Revisiting boyfriends-past? Hiking, Bella? _Hiking_?"

"I used to hike all the time. Besides, we went biking."

"Bella."

"It was beautiful."

"Isabella!"

"Fine!" I snap, throwing myself huffily onto the stool opposite her at the kitchen island. Don't spill a drop of my coffee, though. "It's dumb and dramatic and I'm fighting AND surrendering to my hormonal, teenage feelings."

"Jasper?"

"Miss him," I whisper, diligently studying the inside of my mug.

"That's ok. You're allowed." She got up, kissed the top of my head, and left the kitchen. Huh. Guess it's pretty simple, after all.

The boys and I spend our afternoon on the trails on the reservation. Nothing like gunning my bike through familiar but ever-changing paths. All of my concentration is needed, my mind has to focus entirely on the twists and turns ahead. I have to be mindful of the ebb and flow of the undergrowth, aware of my brothers' presence and positions around me. It's such a great way to clear my mind. That might be one of my favorite things about my dirt bike, along with the time spent with my brothers and the look on our dad's face every time he sees us drag out our helmets. Plus, you know, some people think it makes me badass.

Refreshed and ready to face yet another of my last weeks of school ever, as Alice has called nearly every week of school since the first week of October, I spend Monday showing Ali, Jess, and Lauren the pictures I took on the trail. Jess seems quite taken with the changes in Riley's appearance. I get that. I spend Tuesday convincing Lauren that I did not, in fact, give Riley a blow job "for old time's sake" and assuring her that I would not be doing so this Saturday, either. Wednesday was spent in quiet yet intense negotiation with Ali on the topic of our continued association with Jess and Lauren. I lose, and on Thursday I am made to play nice. Friday finds Jessica cornering me after lunch to gain my permission for a more "group-type" outing the following night. After texting Ri for his thoughts, I give her the go ahead. I'm a little shocked Alice is allowing this to happen. What is she up to? I hope Riley's had his shots, because he's in for one hell of a trip.

"What if we, you know, uh, run into HIM?" Jess asks breathlessly in the car with me, Ali, and Mike on the way to PA to meet Riley. It makes no sense for him to come get me when I'm perfectly capable of getting my own ride. Besides, Alice is getting in all the Volvo time she can these days. Looks like Edward will be coming home right after the new year. We're both excited and scared about his return. "Will it be like a throw down or what?"

"What is this? West Side Story?" She frustratess me so. "Jess, we're going to N9NE. I seriously doubt we'll run into Jas or his crew at an open mic night at an all ages place. We have to be out of there by nine, anyway; they start IDing then. Movie, then coffee after."

"Still no contact with any of them?" Ali asks, a little sad.

"No. Just too hard. They're his friends, anyway." Wish it felt as easy as that sounds. I miss Sketch almost as much as I miss Jas. "What about you?"

"Yeah, a few texts every now and then. Nothing big."

"Damn right, nothing big," mutters Mike. Latent jealousy.

"There's Riley," I point out as we pull up to the place. "Jessica, do NOT eat him alive, please. He's such a nice guy. Doesn't even have a fake ID." I can't help but shake my head. Nice, well-behaved Riley. Yep. We're just going to be friends.

"Is that why we're_… here_?" asks Ali. Yeah, this is not really our unusual speed, but we're all rolling with it.

We park then all get out of the car, hugs, kisses, and girl-squealing over Riley as far as the eye can see. We aren't exactly dressed like we normally are for a big night out, but we're cute, I have to say. Jeans, boots, tight shirts, awesome scarves, leather jackets. It's Washington in November; we're not going to be rocking miniskirts. Well, Jess is, but she's wearing thick tights and boots. We gather our fair share of appreciative glances as we make our way to the door of this nondescript little joint. Pretty sure Riley receives not one but two fist bumps on the way in with both me and Jess at his side.

"Are you fucking serious?" I get this in stereo because both Ali and Mike blurt this at the same time. Oh my God. I am not a fan of N9NE. Dingy, small, in need of a paint job, dinged up foosball table off to the side of the rundown bar. The stage makes me sad. The people gathered in here look happy, at least.

"I know, I know," says Riley, hands out pleadingly in front of him. "It's not the best. But the guy who usually comes to these early open mics is amazing. Acoustic guitar and that's it. Seemed like something you might enjoy." He says that last part looking at me, and I no longer have the heart to tell him what a shithole we all think this place is. And we can't even get drunk.

"It's fine, Ri. When does it start?"

We decided to get a bunch of small plates to share before the show started, and once we all took our first bites, Riley was forgiven. Holy shit, this dude can find the food. Crispy Green Beans, Crab Rangoon, Guinness Mussels, Wild Boar Chili. Oh my God. I think we heard sounds coming from Mike that only Ali should hear. The little smirk on her face lends credence to that idea. Little plates just aren't cutting it since we accidentally scarf them all down, so we order a couple of pizzas. We are just getting to the end of the Pizza Margherita, with Jess deliberately sharing off Riley's plate, when the bartender gets on stage to announce the beginning of Open Mic.

Pretty sure I'm going to puke up everything that I've just eaten.

No fucking way.

It can't be.

Why here?

"I'll be damned. It's Sketchy Pete!" Mike laughs at the realization.

"He sings?" Ali asks.

"Who is Skeevy Pete?" I forgot that Jess has never met him.

"SKETCHY Pete, Jess. A friend of mine. The guy who sent me the stuffed pig."

"Oh," she says, catching up. "OH!" There it is.

"You know this old dude, Bella?" Riley is a justifiably dubious.

"He, uh, owns the garage where Jas works," I tell both he and Jessica.

"You want to leave?"

After a quick look around the place, I tell him, "No, Ri. It's fine. I'm fine. Besides, this? This I gotta see." Ali lets out a squeak of happiness at that verdict.

Sketch serenades the room with a deep, rich baritone and nimble fingers. Folksy with flare, he is just amazing. Spying me after his second song, he almost drops his guitar. With an evil grin, he launches into Damien Rice's "Delicate" because he knows I love it, I guess It's heartbreaking, and beautiful, and I cry.

I feel someone lean over my shoulder, assume it's Riley returning from the bar with a soda for my weeping self.

"Does he sing that better than me?"

There is a gasp, and I can't tell if it came from one person or all of us or just me.

"Jas," I breathe.

"Hi, Bella," he smirks. "How are you?" Such an inane and pedestrian question, coming from him.

"I'm good. You?"

"I'm good. Keeping busy. Hey Ali, Mike." Mike makes a motion to raise his hand in a gesture of greeting only to have it smacked down by a pissed off, protective, pint-sized pixie.

"Hello, Jasper." Icicles, man.

"Ok. Jessica, right?"

"Yeah. HI," she mumbles, unsure of how to handle the situation. Join the club, Jess. I'm the fucking president.

"And you are?" Jas asks this while extending his hand across me toward Riley, who has just sat back down. For a millisecond I think he's going to punch the hell out of him, then realize he's only going to shake his hand. Relief and disappointment. I'm an idiot.

"I'm Riley. Hi." Riley takes the offered hand and gives as good as he's getting. If they squeeze much tighter, there will be blood dripping. Macho bullshit that neither of them has the right to. Jas doesn't own me, and Ri has staked no claim. Hearing my heavy sigh, they both shoot a glance in my direction and drop the handshake fight.

"Good to meet you, Riley. I'm J."

"Uh huh." Riley Biers, the hard ass, ladies and gentlemen.

"You and Bella, uh…?" He tries to ask without asking, passing his hand back and forth between Riley and me. Riley only cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow. Sketch would fucking love it if he could see it from the stage. "Ok," he says again, obviously not used to the kind of cold shoulder treatment he's receiving from my friends. "Bella, can I talk to you for a minute, Babe?"

It's the "Babe" that does it. It stiffens my back, that longed-for endearment, that much-missed tone of voice. It reminds me that it's been months, _months_, and I've been waiting to hear it all that time. And he could have called, and he didn't. He happened to stumble upon me out of the blue, with another guy as far he knows, and decides that now is an all right time to talk to me. Fuck that. As much as I want to talk to him, as good as he looks and as great as he sounds and as many times as I've thought about being back in his arms, fuck _that_.

"I'm sorry, J. We're in the middle of something right now. Um, maybe I can call you? " My heart is breaking, but I think I'm pulling off the smug bitch look I'm going for. Ali's small grin directed toward me gives me confidence.

He looks at me with knowing eyes, well aware that he is being spooned some of his own medicine. And that's ok. He can know this is hard for me. He can know that it's purposeful. As long as he understands why. And the look on his face tells me that he does.

"Sure, Bella. Whenever you have time," he says quietly, sincerely. Perking up, becoming the showman he is, he tells the rest, "Pete's got a couple more songs before we head over to R Bar. Y'all have a good night." And I let him go. Again.

I hang on through Pete's set. I hang on through the hugs and compliments and heaping piles of crazy that is Sketch. I hang on through the movie I don't watch, and the coffee I don't taste. I hang on through telling Riley good bye and watching him and Jess make a date for the next weekend. I hang on through the drive home and Ali's frenetic attempt at conversation in which I cannot participate. I hang on until we reach my driveway. And then I hang on to Ali when I can't hang on to myself any longer.

**A/N: I know Jas was like a fucking Whack-A-Mole in this chapter (Oh, there he is! BAM!), but this is set up. It's on like Donkey Kong next time. Also, I am certain that the real Bar N9NE is an awesome place to go. I needed a crappy place, but I like to use actual local spots for this story, so… the crapification of Bar N9NE. Just go to the website to see for yourself. My apologies to the proprietor. Please don't sue me. I am broke.**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: A little nervous… Not sure if this says what I'm thinking.**

"Ican'tbeleivehe didthatIshouldhavetalkedtohimwhydidn'tItalktohim?" Sob. Sniff.

"I don't know why he did that, Bells. You were right not to talk to him tonight, though," replies my Ali.

"ButIwanttotalktohimImisshimsomuchdidyouseehimhelo okedsogoodandhewassoniceexcpettoRiley." Snort, cough, sigh.

"I know you do. Call him tomorrow if you want to. Do it on your terms. He saw Riley as a threat. Good." She's so smart and awesome. No wonder she's my best friend.

"Uh, Alice? You understood that snot-covered chaos she was spewing?" Mike. Such a guy. Of course she understands.

"Of course, I understand!" Told you. "She's speaking Confused And Broken Heart. One of the many International Girl languages, Mikey."

"Never," he mutters. "I will never understand."

"It's ok, baby. I'm going to call my parents and stay here tonight. Go on home. But we may need ice cream, so can you stop by the store for us first?"

"Yeah, ok. Be right back." No shock there; he was never going to say no to her. He swooped down to plant a kiss on his tiny woman's lips, then leaned over to place one on my wet cheek. Now that's a true guyfriend. What would I do without these people?

"Bella? Are you ok?" Seth's voice coming from the newly opened front door is seriously concerned. It isn't really like me to have an emotional breakdown in the front yard.

"Girl stuff, Seth. Mike will be right back with some ice cream," Ali explains. The mention of frosty, sugary goodness spurs my brother into action.

"Damn, Twink. I'll go get Mom."

One hour later and a half gallon of my preferred mint chocolate chip gone between the three of us, my best friend and my mother have quite deftly calmed me down.

"It's always the dead sexy ones who tie you into knots, isn't it?" My mother says this, like she knows this from experience. She probably does.

"Think I'd learn that lesson by now, huh?" I say, thinking of Jas and Edward. Dead sexy, experts at twisting my brains, the both of them. "What am I going to do?"

"What do you want to do, honey?"

"She wants to jump his bones and fu- uh, feed him some fried chicken." Nice save, girl.

"Yes, I'm sure that's exactly it, Mary Alice," my mother says with a bemused smile on her face.

Shaking my head at them both, I admit, "I want to talk to him. I think I'll text him today, tomorrow, whatever. We need to talk. I think I need to hear what he has to say." That sounds healthy. Right?

"He has a LOT of 'splainin' to do, Lucy."

"I know. Ali. But this all got way out of hand because he wouldn't talk to me. I can't make it better, can't move on, if _I_ won't talk to _him_."

"That makes too damn much sense, Bella Button."

"Thanks, Ali Oop."

"It does make sense. A very wise way of looking at it, Bella. Very grown up."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Are we finished with the ice cream now?" Hippie love guru has already started cleaning up when she asks this. But that's fine.

"Yeah, I think we are."

Ali and I go to my room, where she plops down in the bean bag, as is her custom. Looking over to my desk, her forehead crinkles in consideration. She pulls two sheets of paper from under my laptop. Two sheets of cream paper with black borders. The lists.

"Oh, my God. You still have these?"

"Uh. Yeah." So embarrassing.

"Why?"

"I don't really know. It just seemed_ clear_ then, you know? Like I actually knew what I wanted. Edward or some unknown, non-existent fantasy guy? Wasn't even really a question in my mind. Now nothing is the same. Nobody is who I thought they were; not even me," I pour out to her.

"These lists do seem kind of fucked up now, don't they?" She asks with a twinkle in her eyes. "Edward isn't the one who fits the Good Man qualities, but I know someone who does. Don't you?"

"Fuck me, Alice. Riley does, and you know it!" We both laugh. It's so bizarre.

"You NEVER wanted the good man. Admit it!" More giggles.

"You're right. But I thought I did. Tried to convince myself that I did."

"You wanted the Bad Boy,' she says growing more serious.

"I still do."

Finally turning in for the night, Ali and I get snuggly in my bed. I feel bad; she doesn't have her hat! But she does have my back - in a fight, in nefarious plots to get our way, in angst filled love life drama, she's always there for me. In the midst of all the shit her family is going through, she still finds time and patience enough to keep me glued together. Tonight as I fall asleep, I don't think of Jasper Whitlock and all the things I want to say to him, or all the things I want him to say to me; there's time for that tomorrow. Tonight, I think about how lucky I am to have the people who stick around no matter what.

Fiona wakes us both up, so Alice and I trudge down the stairs together, holding each other upright. Another relatively early Sunday morning. Mornings suck, man. Except when there's bacon.

"Charlie!" Ali abandons me as she leaps past the last three steps in order to hug my dad faster. She loves that man too much.

"Morning, Dad. Bacon." That's really all I can get out right now.

"An ice cream night, girls? Everything better now?" He asks this with a small grin and a hint of humor, but there's real concern.

"We're cool, Charlie."

"Uh huh." Charlie Swan has a keen bullshit detector.

"I _will_ be fine, Dad."

"Ok." And with that, he drops the subject and shovels a large amount of crispy pig on my plate before my suddenly loud and rampaging brothers make it down the stairs.

Surrounded by these crazy people and their chatter, I continue in calm denial of the nerves lurking just under the surface in the face of what I have already decided to do. I'm calling Jasper later. I am. I'm going to be a big girl about all this and talk to the man before my anxiety and emotions convince me otherwise. Just not at this time of the morning. He'd hate me all over again before he even picked up the phone if I make it ring before noon.

Ali goes home and the boys go riding. The chill in the air is my excuse to them for staying home. Mom and Dad head into Seattle for the day, just one of those spur of the moment drives they take every once in a while. He's not on call, and she wants to shop. Dinner somewhere nice, then a moonlit drive home; just being together makes them happy. Their spontaneity is a lesson in itself. I am actually, honest to God, in the house alone. Privacy. Will wonders never cease? Sitting in the living room, curled up in my favorite chair, not listening to _Meet The Press _droning away on the television, I stare at my phone wondering if I should just go ahead and call him at 10:15am, when the damn thing rings.

"Wild Eyed Southern Boys" is playing on my phone.

It's Jas.

Just a text, but it's Jas.

"_**Please talk to me. I miss you."**_

Huh. Before I can even realize I've thought the words, I'm typing them.

"_You didn't miss me until you saw me."_

"_**Not true."**_

"_It was convenient last night."_

"_**I couldn't walk away once I saw you. Please talk to me." **_

I need to stop the pissy messaging. I told myself I was gonna talk to him, right? Pull up your big girl panties, Bella, damn it.

"_Ok."_

"_**Yes?" **_Then quicky, before I can answer, "**Can we meet somewhere?"**

I honestly was thinking we'd talk over the phone, but I can do this. I can face him. I can. But on my terms.

"_Has to be here."_

"_**OK. Where and when?"**_

"_The diner at one o'clock."_

"_**I'll be there. Thank you."**_

Sighing with relief, anticipation, excitement, and a healthy dose of apprehension, I call Ali and let her know what's going on. After she first expresses surprise at his making the first move, then congratulates me for having the balls to set up the meeting, she offers to hang around for back up. I decline, but I want to hug her for the suggestion. I run up the stairs and rip my closet apart looking for just the right outfit that says _See what you've been missing _without looking like I'm trying to send any message at all. Not as easy as it sounds. I finally decide on dark skinny jeans with a short blue cardy, white scarf and my beat up brown suede booties. Lots of eyeliner; I love it and so does he. Grabbing my leather jacket on the way out, I just know that I'm dressed in an understated eat-your-heart-out way. The smirk is unplanned.

It's way too soon to head to the diner, but I'm too fidgety to stay home. I drive my rusty freak of mechanical science over to the Cullens'. Like me, Ali is alone in her house.

"You. Look. Amazing."

"Hello to you, too," I drawl.

"He's going to die. Then fall at your feet."

"Because he's dead?"

"Ha ha. You're missing something, though. Come on," she exclaims, dragging me to her room.

After throwing her black slouchy knit beanie at me, she looks up into my face and whispers positive affirmations. Lord, help me. "You can do this. You are strong. You are in control."

"I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and, doggone it, people like me," I reply, giving her my very best Jack Handey impersonation.

"Bella." She wants to be frustrated, but she just can't.

"I'm fine. A little keyed up, but fine. Promise. But… advice?"

"Go in there knowing what you want. Don't let him tell you, or persuade you. Do you know what you want?"

"I want him." It's that simple; I can't deny it.

"Then let's go get him." She grabs her coat and heads down to her Volvo. I guess I knew when I came over here that she'd be coming with me. I feel strong, but not strong enough. If this goes bad, I'll be destroyed. Not forever, but I'm honest enough with myself to admit it won't be pretty for a while. Besides, if we didn't go together, I'd just have to pretend to be surprised when she showed up on her own anyway.

"Why the Volvo?"

"Because you'll either be leaving with him or will need me to drive." Best friend ever.

His truck is already there when we arrive. He's waiting for me. I'm early as it is, but he's there waiting for me. I like it. It means he's anxious, too.

"I'll be in there, but not close. I swear I won't eavesdrop; I'll wait for you to rehash it all later."

"Ok." I take a very deep breath and almost forget how to exhale. One more glance at Ali for strength and I leave the safety of her car and walk right into that diner like I own every dude in the place. I see him, and my heart clenches and speeds up at the same time, but I don't pause. I'm wearing my badass right now, and I want him to see it. Sliding into the booth, I face him.

"Hi, Jas."

He clears his throat. Twice. "Hi, Bella," he drawls in what sounds like relief. "Thanks for comin'. I was almost worried that you wouldn't. You look beautiful."

"I wouldn't stand you up." He thinks I look beautiful.

"I know. But you brought Ali for back up. Kinda felt like I deserved to be stood up, though. "

"Maybe. And Ali came because she wanted to. I would never have been able to stop her."

"Look, I_"

"Why now?"

"Huh?"

"Why now? We haven't talked for a while. Seeing me last night just remind of this girl you used to know?" The abruptness of it all just irks me.

"Bella, it's not like that. I think about you all the time! I was pissed at first but… and then I was embarrassed…I just didn't know…then you were dating …" He's flustered, running his hand down his face. Badass bad boy, usually so totally in control of his inner girl, _Jasper_ is flustered. This is going to go nowhere if he can't articulate a complete thought. Besides, it's so damn adorable, I can't remember what I want to say.

"Calm down. Start from the beginning," I advise. Then quietly, "I need to know. I want to understand."

He takes a deep, calming breath, but before he can begin again, the waitress comes up to take our drink order. It's fortunate, I think. He needs the moment.

Another deep breath after the waitress leaves to get our drinks, and he exhales. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Jesus, I'm sorry. I was so mad. Edward, he just, fuck , Bella. He's the red cape in front of the bull ,you know? But I was wrong. He's your friend, and I should have tried to understand. I overreacted."

"Jas, I-"

"Please let me finish. It's taken me a long time to get this much out.

"All right."

"I was perfectly happy bein' a pissed off asshole for a while. I was blamin' you and no one corrected me. It was easy to be annoyed with the texts, calls; you just wouldn't stop. The boys got quiet and just played better to keep me from bitchin'; work got better because all I did was bang the cars at the garage into shape all day; the music got rougher, better, because I just growled it all out at the mic all night. Then fuckin' Pete calls me out on my shit."

I smile and tell him, "Yeah. He tried it out on me, too."

He grins. "Fuckin' Pete." Shakes his head. "Well, he would not give up. Called me a hard headed bastard. Told me to grow the fuck up. Told me I was bein' unfair. He was right, of course, and I knew it. Didn't matter, though. I never back down, never go back. Stupid, " he finishes quietly.

The waitress comes back with my Diet Coke and his water, and we order nothing else. She grimaces but then takes a really good look at my companion and smiles before she leaves. He does have that affect.

"What changed?" I try to pick the conversation back up. I'm a little stunned. This is a lot more than I expected from him.

"He told me you stopped taking or returning his calls. The boys lost contact with you, even though they still talked to Ali. Pete told me I was gonna lose the best thing that I had goin' for me. He was right again."

"I just couldn't do it, Jas. Sketch made me think of you, and that was just too hard."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I took him away from you, too."

"Thanks." What else can I say?

"Then Rose made sure I knew Edward was in rehab. Slipped it into conversation in the most subtle way," he smirks.

"I'm sure it was something like, _Hey dumbass, Ed's in rehab_, right?"

"Yeah, " he laughs. "Pretty much. Then Emmett. Well, he's the one who kicked my ass into gear. At first, he just wanted to kick my ass. The only reason we still talk is because of Rose. For the last two months, I'm pretty damn convinced the only reason we hang out is so he can tell me who you were datin' that week. He would sit there and watch me get twisted up, darin' me to say somethin'."

"But you never did."

"No, never did. Didn't have the right. Ripped me to shreds, and he knew it. And then… then I hear the name Riley. I recognized that one. And, Bella, I spent all last week fucked-up, out-of-my head pissed. Ali told Brian there was gonna be a second date, and where. Just so happened Peter was playin' that night. Seemed like I was supposed to do somethin', even if it was just to see you happy. But it nearly killed me, to see you there with him." He stops here, takes my hand and pulls it across the table to him. "Bella," he says, stroking my palm, "I never, not for a day, stopped thinkin' about you."

"Jas," I say looking into his gorgeous eyes, "you are so full of shit."

"What?!"

I pull my hand back as I watch his genuinely shocked face morph into about seven different contortions of emotion, all of them underwritten with traces of disbelief.

"You avoid my calls for weeks. You don't have the balls to get in touch with me when I quit trying. You knew for a while that I was seeing other people. And_ Riley_ spurs you into action? I call bullshit."

"It's true. Riley, he, Emmett..."

"Jas? What _the fuck_ are trying to say?"

"Emmett told me all the other guys were just distractions, ways to get Ali off your back. But Riley, man, Riley you liked, he said. Riley would be the end of any chance I might ever have."

"Emmett," I grind out.

"Yeah, Emmett. It was nice to know he doesn't really hate me, after all. But he did tell me it was time to stop bein' a pussy and make an effort to get you back before I lose you for good."

"How many have you been with since me? Huh?"

"None. I was too afraid to shut this door."

"What makes you think you haven't?"

"Oh, Babe," he whispers. "Have I?"

"I tried, Jas. I tried to explain. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I apologized to you. Do you remember that? I called. I texted. You shut me out so completely. I needed you. Watching Ed go through that was hard. I needed you to lean on. It's been really shitty."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Stop saying that. Please." I can't help the couple tears that fall. I hate those damn dirty drops. I'm losing my strength in the face of his regret.

"Have I lost you? Do I have a chance?"

My turn to take a deep breath. Mom and Ali asked me what I want. I want him. That was the answer last night, it was my answer this morning, it's my answer right now. Am I brave enough to take him?

"No. I mean, yeah. I mean, it's not too late."

"Oh, Babe," he sighs, a smile on his face.

"Not without a catch, though. Slow this time. Slow."

"Yeah, ok."

"Dates and shit, Jasper. No sleep overs for a while. A long while."

"All right."

"We have to be smarter this time."

"Absolutely. Slow, smart," he purrs as he moves to sit next to me, taking me in his arms. "Whatever you want. Whatever you need." He embraces me so tightly.

"I missed you, Jas."

"I love you, Babe."

**A/N: Review and tell me what you think, please. Did I get it right? And btw, I almost stopped when she told him he was full of shit. You're welcome for my not pulling **_**that**_** cliffy trigger. **** Thanks for hanging in there!**

**If you're a Supernatural fan (which I am. Love me some Dean. And Cas. But not Dean and Cas.), click on over to NewbieOnTheBlock's series. She's on the 12****th**** story, and each one is amazing. Start with "Relax, Dude." I've read a lot of really sucky SPN fics, but this writer is incredible. You will not be sorry.**

**AND, you writers who read this, go find Christag Banners and take her word cloud challenge. She has one for Jasper and two for Edward. My "Clumsy Cullens" was written for it.**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: The Lists was nominated for an Energize WIP Award again. Last chance to vote if you are still diggin' the story!**

"You what?" Did I hear that right?

"I love you?" Is he _asking_ me?

"Wha-?" Confused.

"Oh, hell." Stricken, pale.

"You do?" Repeat that, please.

"Yeah?" Now_ he's_ confused.

"Jas. Really?" I need confirmation.

"Babe, that is not how I planned on tellin' you that. In the diner, for fuck's sake. But, damn it, I do. I love you, Bella. I've been dyin' without you."

"Me, too."

"You what?"

"I love you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I love you!" I rain kisses all over his face; his cheeks, his chin, his eyelids, and his mouth. Oh, yes, his mouth. It's all I can manage right now. Kisses, kisses, kisses.

And he kisses me back.

A lot.

Quite passionately.

Kisses me to the point at which the manager, a friend of my dad's, suggests very politely that we take it elsewhere. Which we do.

Walking out of the diner, hand in hand with Jas, who loves me by the way, I raise my free hand and wiggle my fingers at Ali. Wiggled them. Like a girly chick. She laughs out loud at me, but then levels a still slightly-hostile gaze at Jas, who loves me by the way. I scrunch my brow in an effort to non-verbally tell her to be nice. There are a lot of unhappy feelings all around my little circle to smooth over. I'll turn on my inner Scarlett O'Hara for the time being, though, and deal with that another day. For now, I'm just going to be happy. With Jas. Who loves me, by the way.

He leads me to his truck, and I squelch the moment of disappointment at missing out on a bike ride. Since he drove the truck, we can drive out to the pond and - No. No, no, no. Slow, Bella. Taking it slow this time.

"Where to, Babe?" he asks, helping her into the cab of the truck, all chivalrous Southern gentleman.

"The pond?" He widens his eyes and asks a silent _Really? _"It's a nice, quiet, private place to talk, Jas." Sure it is.

"All right. The pond," he smirks back at me. He doesn't buy the "quiet and private" excuse any more than I do.

We drive in silence, gripping each other's hand tightly, just enjoying being so close to one another again. All the things I missed – his smell, his smirk, the sparks that explode wherever his skin touches mine, that motherfucking lip ring – are all here with me, within reach, and I have this feeling of _rightness_ intricately mingled with just a hint of apprehension and a pretty healthy dose of disbelief. It's one thing to want something, to hope for it; it is an entirely different thing to get it. But I've been through a shit ton of self-examination, soul searching, and mint chocolate chip to get to this point, this place beside him in this truck, and I'm going to enjoy every damn moment.

We reach the pond, park, sit quietly, look at the water and the rocks. And then, in a blur, we are all over each other, seemingly trying to make up for the past months of sadness and anger and loneliness with the passion of reunion. His hands are everywhere, my hair, my face, my back, my legs and ass as he pulls me across the seat, his mouth hard and almost painful on mine. I do my best to keep up with him, in body and action, at least, since my brain has shut out every thought but one, single word. _Finally. _Jas turns to lean his back against his door and pulls me ever closer, closer, until I am draped over him, grasping at his hair as I try to mold my body to his. It's frenzied, almost, the way we are so in need of each other. He begins to pull my shirt up. My mind stutters a quick thought as to when exactly my jacket came off, then dismisses the thought as unimportant. It isn't until I reach down to his belt that either of us remembers yet another rule we have set for ourselves. It's my fucking rule. A rule I think may be destined to be broken.

"Babe," he pants. "Babe, " he tries again, attempting to fill his lungs, pulling his mouth a hair's breadth away from mine. "Slow, remember?"

"Damn it," I hiss. He's right. In the fraction of my mind that has regained a small percentage of function now that his tongue is no longer in my mouth tasting all delicious, I know that it's the right choice. Take it slower than before, work out the trust issues before we, well, fuck each other stupid. Deal with all the swirling, conflicting emotions before we bang each other into a stupor. Resolve our heavy handed notions of being considerate versus controlling before we simply give in to the lust and absolute power of our deeply satisfying physical relationship. All that makes a hell of a lot of sense. Still sucks ass, though.

Taking a small nibble at the lip ring( because, come on, who thought I wouldn't?), I move away from him, but only enough to maneuver myself to straddle his hips. We may not be screwing today, but I am not ready to separate myself from him. We gaze into each other's eyes, and that makes me a little sick since I'm overdosing on the chick flick-ness of it all.

"I missed you, Jas," I tell him. Yeah, not syrupy sweet at all.

"Still mad at me?" He asks this question like he doesn't really want to know the answer.

"Yeah, but I'm trying not to be," I tell him honestly. "Still hurt more than mad. But it's fading."

"Another chance, Babe. That's all I'm askin' for. But… but I think…I think it has to be a clean do-over. We have to put all that shit in the past and keep it there. No dwellin', no draggin' it back out or throwin' it in each other's face. The past has to be over, or this won't work."

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"You grew up," I tell him.

"I had to. I was gonna lose somethin' very important if I didn't." I smile at him some more, but he gets a serious look on his face and clears his throat. "Have you?"

Oh. Ouch. Yeah, I guess I had that one coming. Part of me wants to be offended – the bratty part. But the rest of me, the smarter part of me, understands he has every right to ask that question. Even if he appears to be scared shitless at the dawning realization that he said that out loud. He got hurt in this mess, too.

Sitting back a little farther on his legs, straightening my back, I reply without anger and with much thought, "Yes. I think I have." I giggle against his lips at the look of relief when he hears my not-pissed voice before kissing him quickly then sit back up. "You can ask me shit, Jas. You're allowed to participate in this discussion, too. We both need to be happy and comfortable and on board with the plan, dude."

"Ok. You're right. Then there are a couple of things I need to say." Super serious. Little scared, I have to admit.

"Shoot." I can pretend to be brave. I can.

"The dates, the guys since we broke up. That gonna come back and bite us on the collective ass?" Well, shit.

"No. None of them worked out. At. All. I didn't like, I mean they weren't, except, I mean, Riley, but nothing really-" Groan. Use your big girl speech, Bella. "Riley and I went on one date. Two if you count last night, but he kind of hooked up with Jess afterward, so I don't count it. We decided last week that we really like being friends instead, anyway. So, to sum up, none of the guys I dated will come back on us, but Ri is my friend. Can you handle that?" He just looks intently at me, thinking. No knee jerk answer, and that's good thing, but I need him to really get it this time. "I mean it, Jas. My friend and only my friend. Nothing deeper. Yes, there's a past, but it was a kid thing, never serious. But he's a good guy, and he's a good friend, someone I enjoy talking to and might sometimes want to hang out with. You need to believe that. Believe _me_."

"Ok. I can handle that."

"You'll like him, too, if you can give him a chance."

"Don't push too hard, Babe," he smirks, but I can tell that he's a little more than half serious. Guess I can understand.

"What was the other thing?"

"Huh?" he asks, slightly focused on my fingers tracing the designs on his t-shirt where they lay across his chest.

"You said you had a couple of things to say. What's the other?" As if I can't guess.

"Edward," he says simply. We both knew this was coming.

"The red flag. I don't know what you want me to say, Jas, that I haven't already."

"It's more about what I have to hear, Bella."

"Ok."

"I can't tell you I'm all right with him. I'm not. He's not like Riley, now, is he?"

"No, he's not." We both know that, too.

"That kid had some kind of hold on you, and I need to know, beyond doubt, that you are over that. I don't want to feel like I'm in competition with that kid. I can't do that."

"I've told you before-"

"I need you to mean it." This is it, isn't it? His one insecurity when it comes to me. He got over the I'm-not-good-enough-for-you thing. He got over the I-don't-do-relationships thing. The last hurdle for him is Edward.

I take his face between my hands and stare him straight on and confess, "He is nothing more to me now than a friend. Not even a close one, but one I still worry about. That family is like my own, and I can't cut them out. Any of them. But Edward? Ed is not a threat to you, not a threat to us. I promise, Jas. I swear. I love _you."_

"All right, then. I can't promise I'll ever like the guy, but I won't stand in your way, either. I promise to do m y best, Babe. But that's all I can promise."

There is relief that this conversation is over. And to express my relief, I kiss him again. Hey, I said slow, not stand still.

"So, what's been goin' on?" Jas asks as he drives me home. It's been an emotional day, and I need some calm.

"Mom, Ali, Esme, and I will be leaving going on our New York trip in three weeks. I'm so excited!"

"Good God, it's time for that already?"

"Thanksgiving is Thursday, Jas," I remind him.

"Shit. Yeah, I guess it is," he says, seemingly shocked that Turkey Day has sneaked up on him.

"You should come to our house for- Um." I stop quickly, but not quickly enough.

"It's ok, Babe. You don't have to invite," he rushes out quietly.

"It's not that I don't want you there. I do! But we usually do Thanksgiving with the Cullens."

"Uh huh", he says, not quite sure why that makes me nervous.

"Would that make you feel awkward?"

"Not if you don't feel awkward." This whole fucking conversation is awkward. Shit.

"Jas. Would you like to come have Thanksgiving at my house?" I ask, smiling, because fuck it.

"Yeah. I'd like that." He's smiling now, too.

We make it to my house, and, to his immense credit, Jas shows no fear. Oh, it's there; I can feel it in the way he's holding my hand, but he's not letting on to either Jake or Seth. Jake surprises him by doing the ubiquitous guy-hug thing. I'm not going to be the one to tell Jasper that Jacob was on his side the whole time, but there you go. Seth, though, has a little harder time with Jas's reappearance. He's not hostile, but he's not greeting him with open arms, either. My baby brother knows that Jas is what will make me happy, but he's also the one who opened the door to find me a sobbing wreck in the front yard. That budding friendship might take a minute to heal.

My mother breezes into the living room before we have a chance to sit down and gives my man a smooch on the cheek, letting him know he's welcome. Dad does not, in fact, give Jas a smooch. Not a smile or a wink or a guy-hug thing. He does rise from his chair to stare at Mr. Whitlock for a minute or two. Then Charlie Swan shakes his head, huffs out a sigh, and extends his hand, which Jas takes gratefully. Dad's smart enough to understand that I brought some of the trouble we had on my self.

We go up to my room and fool around, stopping ourselves before it gets really good. I fill him in on school and the bizarre situation wherein Jess and Lauren are almost my friends. He tells me all about the band and their new songs and upcoming gigs.

"I need to get going, Babe." I can't help the dumbass grin. "What's that about? That smile."

"I missed that," I whisper, ashamed at my Molly Ringwaldness.

"What did you miss?"

"You calling me Babe."

"I missed sayin' it, Babe." And he kisses me deeply, slowly. The kind of kiss that only someone who loves you can give. And I kiss back, clinging to Jas, who loves me by the way.

**A/N: A little short, but next time Thanksgiving hilarity. Guess who's coming to dinner!**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: Third place in the WIP Awards non-canon category. Not bad! Thanks!**

"YES! We made it in time for the Parade!"

I don't think I've ever heard Sketch so excited about anything. He called me last night to see what time he and Jas should be here today, and I told him whenever he felt like it. Guess he didn't want to be on the road when Santa arrives in Herald Square. I'm positive I've never seen him so dressed up. Khakis with a brown and cream checked button up with a cream vest and brown patterned tie. Dude is even sporting a pocket watch. Just, damn. Pete's hot. We invited Sketch and the band for dinner, but all of them had plans with family except him. Like Jas, Pete is a transplant. He runs to the kitchen to greet Mom and Esme, and we hear squeals of delight. Jas and I hug in the hallway.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Babe," Jas murmurs, kissing me lightly but with a not-so-subtle desire for more.

"Thank you, Jas. Happy Turkey Day to you, too." My kiss back is supposed to be sweet and brief. Isn't working out that way. The fact that he's wearing slim, dark jeans and a brown sweater that hugs his shoulders just right doesn't exactly deter me from molesting him.

"All right, enough of that," Pete crows, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the living room. He flops us both down on the couch while simultaneously waving at assorted Swans as they stumble down the stairs and various Cullens already scattered around the room. The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade brings us all together. Every year at 9am. Mom and Esme run in from the kitchen to stand behind the couch. They love Matt Lauer. It isn't Thanksgiving for them until they know whether he's going to wear a scarf_ and_ a hat for the broadcast.

"Please, sit down, ladies," drawls Jas, being perfect.

"No, no. We'll be running back and forth. Sit," Mom explains. She and Esme take care of all the last minute preparation during the parade. It's their thing, whether at our house or the Cullens'. They look so domestic in their aprons.

Finally Jas does sit and throws his arm around me. The couch gets more crowded as the floats and balloons really get going, and Jas pulls me onto his lap when Mike and Ali join us. She's on his lap, too. Dad and smiles, and Carlisle tries to hide his scowl. Such tolerant fathers. My dad is totally fine with PDA, and Carlisle has learned to live with it. Good thing, too, because between the two of them, they could make a person truly disappear in this town.

"Look, baby girl! Broadway! You'll be there soon! Getting excited?" Pete is so cute, like a little boy.

"I can't wait. It's so cool to see all these places and know that I'll be right there," I say, sounding a bit like a child myself.

"Wait til you see the tree at Rockefeller Center, Bells," pipes up Emmett.

"Mm hmm," is my reply. Still feeling a little unsure when it comes to Em at the moment. While I'm very grateful he had my back, and happy that he didn't cut Jas out completely, I'm not exactly pleased that he was trying to manipulate things behind the scenes. Ali, I expected to do that. Em, not so much. I have to decide either to get over it or be mad. I'm leaning toward getting over it, but I'm getting there slowly just to see him sweat.

"I want to go ice skating there, too!" trills Alice. "But if it's too crowded, we can go to Bryant Park. I think it's just as good."

We talk about the city as the parade winds down, Jas just holding my hand. I don't think he's too excited for me to go. Once Santa has made his big entrance, thus ushering in the holiday season, we are called to the table. The oohs and ahhs fill the turkey-scented air, and we all dig in.

"If you reach for that drumstick again, I will punch you in the face. I promise."

Jake's the one who said it, but none of us can figure out who he's talking to; there are currently four other people attempting to lay claim to that crispy handle of dark meat goodness. Slowly they all pull their arms back in disappointment. They are all afraid of him. Jake is happy and reaches for his prize only to be stopped cold.

"Thank you for defending my favorite piece of bird," Dad says with a laughing lilt to his voice as he grabs the leg.

Charlie is not afraid of Jake, and he takes a very large, messy, satisfying bite out of the last drumstick on the table. Jas, Seth, Mike, and Sketch all opera clap for my dad. They didn't get what they wanted, but neither did Jake. Carlisle doesn't care because he got the other leg, and Emmett hates dark meat, anyway. Stuffed-mouth smiles for all the dudes at the table. Well, except for Jake. That's some awesomesauce to go with the cranberries, right there. Mom, Esme, Ali, Rose and I just shake our heads at each other, but I'm pretty sure we're all enjoying the silliness on display by the assembled badasses.

"This is some delicious bird, Mama Renee," Pete coos toward my mother, who just beams at the compliment. Turning to his right, he unleashes his adorableness on Esme. "And these are the best candied yams I've had since I left home, Mama Esme." Esme blushes. They didn't invite him to call them "Mama"; that was all him. It's obvious they don't mind. Completely charmed, the both of them.

"Well, you're certainly welcome, Peter," my mother gushes, like she's proud of her very own toddler's good manners.

"We're so happy you could be with us today," Esme coos, as if to a baby.

Now it's Dad and Carlisle's turn to roll their eyes. I think both have realized that Sketchy Pete has just become a fixture in their lives. They'll be fine, as long as Sketch doesn't call either of them "Daddy". Besides, we could all do worse than to have his special brand of crazy around more often.

"Where is home, Peter?" asks my mother. Have to get the details if she's going to adopt the boy.

"Virginia. Been gone a long time. Tried out a lot of places before I settled on Washington."

"You still miss it?"

He smiles at me when I ask that. "Not as much as I used to. I have great friends, a successful business, people who I think of a family. My life here is pretty good." The moms in the room tear up. They already think of him as family, too.

We're all happy, smiling, stuffed, and in need of a break from the table once the guys have all cleaned their plates. Like most American households, the women revert happily back to traditional gender roles on this holiday in particular, and send the menfolk into the living room to watch football while we clean up the remains of a most delicious dinner. Mom did indeed cook the turkey; it's one of the few things the boys insist she make in the course of the year. She made some pretty good yeast rolls, too. Esme brought the candied yams and green bean casserole, her two yearly assignments. It was my job to make the mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy because Mom's is always lumpy, Brussels sprouts, glazed carrots, and two kinds of cranberry sauce – homemade for the normal people among us, and the jellied kind out of a can for my father because it reminds him of his childhood. This year, I also took a stab at homemade macaroni and cheese. It's a Southern staple, and I wanted Jas and Pete to feel at home. There isn't any left, so I guess I did all right.

We are all gossiping and clearing the table. Mom and Esme are busy making to-go plates for Pete. Ali and I are getting dessert plates ready. Rose has just started to brew the coffee. I wasn't sure how it would be between Rose and me; we didn't exactly part on the best of terms the last time we were together. But I figured she was a package deal with Emmett, and Em had to be here, no question. There is honestly less tension between the two of us than there is between her and Ali. I have to hope it will all just blow over.

I start the first load in the dishwasher and call the boys back to the table for pie. This is where Mary Alice Cullen shines. My tiny buddy can design, pattern, cut, and sew an outfit that would make Michael Kors jealous; this is a known fact. What most people don't know is that if she chooses to open a bakery rather than a design studio in the future, she'll probably be even more successful. Pumpkin pie, apple pie, cheesecake with berries, pecan pie and red velvet cake for the Southern boys, cinnamon sugar cookies, and a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. I will not be able to wear anything but sweat pants for a week. Don't care.

"Alice, I am going to be a very fat old man," Mike says lovingly after he finishes his third piece of whatever. He ate them too fast for me to see.

"No you won't, Mikey. No husband of mine is going to be too fat to wear the clothes I pick out for him. We'll join a gym for geezers."

Hard to tell if Mike is more afraid of Emmett's choked sputtering or Carlisle's absolute stillness. It's unnatural and bit unnerving how statue-like he is at the moment.

"Excuse me," Daddy C says very calmly after he starts breathing again. "No_ what_ of yours, Mary Alice?"

"Husband, Dad," she states simply, holding securely onto Mike so he can't bolt. "Surely you realize that's somewhere in our future. Not any time soon, of course, but on the horizon." For her, it's just fact.

Turning his head slightly away from his darling, apple-of-his-eye, only daughter to face the boy in question, Carlisle puts his fork down and inquires, "Is that so, Michael?"

"Uh, um, I, ah, what?" I think the situation has gotten way beyond what Mike can handle. Jake and Seth just think it's funny. Jas is staying very, very still. Don't move, Jasper. They can't see you if you don't move.

"Football?" Leave it to Sketch to diffuse the bomb.

Carlisle makes sure he and Mike are on the same. This gives him the ability to throw the ball to him every single time, ensuring tackles by both Jake and Emmett, who are on Dad's team. It's painful and hilarious to watch. Jas and Seth are on Carlisle's team. They're playing well together. Seth is definitely letting go of any bad feelings. They'll be out there until they all feel the need for a nap.

Chilly from the November air, we girls head inside for hot chocolate and one more round of cleaning.

"Thank you, girls, for helping out so much. Today has been wonderful!" My mother enthuses as we sit in the living room again. The last few minutes of the National Dog Show plays on the television. Holidays bring out the Norman Rockwell traditionalist in her.

"You're so welcome, Mrs. Swan. Thank you for inviting me," replies Rose, all manners. She just can't bring herself to call them Renee and Esme. "And Pete and Jas, for that matter."

"That's what family is for, Rose," Esme tells her with a smile. "Next holiday get-together, we'll ALL be here." It's easy to forget sometimes how much she must be missing Edward. She puts on such a happy face, never complains, doesn't let us see that it must be so painful for her.

"When does he get home, Esme?" I ask.

"The week after we return from New York. I can't wait. I miss him so very much." Her eyes are shiny, but she smiles. Changing the subject, she says, "So! New York! Do you have a Must See list, Bella?"

"You know me so well. Of course, I do!"

I get no further than item ten on my list when the boys return, rosy cheeked and out of breath. Mike looks a bit disheveled, and Carlisle is smiling. The party breaks up soon after they come in. Carlisle and Esme head home. Alice and Mike go off to do things she is forbidden to tell me, and then to bed because she will dragging him shopping at 3am. Jake and Seth are meeting up with Victoria and Jane. Jake somehow got the red head to forgive him. My brother, the charming scoundrel. Might be why I love Pete so much. He, too, leaves after a round of smooches, heavy laden with leftovers. Jas came with him, but he's leaving with Em and Rose, who have decided to hang out for a while.

Mom and Dad go upstairs to nap. Please, let them be napping. It's the perfect opportunity to devour Jas, but after devouring so much at dinner, I just don't have the energy. Seems everyone else feels the same way, and we all end up asleep, Rose and Em on the couch, Jas and me in an overstuffed chair. I think we would have all slept until Friday if not for Emmett's snoring.

"Jas. Jas, wake up," I whisper, not sure that I want to wake him up at all. He always looks so beautiful when he's sleeping. Rose is already awake and is having the same thoughts about Emmett, judging by the soft look on her face. Funny how, as many times as I've seen a sleeping Emmett, I've never had that thought about him. I can see her point; I've just never considered it before. Perspective.

"We really should wake them. Em has to be back soon. Big game this weekend," Rose tells me quietly.

"Saturday?"

"Yeah. Jasper has a gig tomorrow, though. Are you coming?" She seems almost hopeful. The old. Less grown up, Bella would have shut her down. But I told him I had grown…

"Yeah, I am. You want to meet early? Go shopping first?"

"How early? Black Friday early or before the show early?" Panic in her voice now.

"Oh, hell no. Black Friday is for Ali. I'm all about sleeping in," I assure her.

I must have gotten a little louder than I thought. Both boys rouse from deep sleep. Em and Rose go out to the car, Rose smiling a little brighter. Jas stays behind to say goodbye at the door.

"You're comin' tomorrow night?" He slips his hands around my waist to rest on the top of my ass.

"Yeah. Were you listening to us?" I can't resist reaching up and playing with the hair curling around his collar.

"Well, I wanted to see if you were goin' to play nice," he smirks.

"Who? Me?" I ask innocently, pressing myself tightly against his sweater clad chest.

"Both of you. You never can tell with Rose."

"I can be sweet."

"Oh, believe me, I remember just how sweet you are," he growls, bending to kiss me. His growl. Damn. It just does things to me. And so do his lips, and teeth, and tongue. His hands aren't lazy, either. It's getting heated, and we're breathing hard, and he's pushing me into the door, and-

"Bella? Hey, has J left? Oops! Oh, shit. I'm sorry." We hear Seth stomping quickly back up the stairs and break apart. We hug for a moment and pause to catch our breath.

"This no sleepovers rule sucks, Babe. Just sayin'."

"I completely agree."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," I tell him, with more than one promise in the meaning. By the look in his eyes, I'm going to assume he caught it.

"Night, Babe. Happy Thanksgiving." One more quick kiss.

"Good night. I love you," I tell him, grabbing a kiss of my own.'

"Mmm, I love you, too." Nothing quick about this kiss. Well, until the horn blares, and he's out the door.

**A/N: So, that's Thanksgiving. Shopping with Rose, the gig, and the NYC send off are next. Give me some love! School's starting soon and I need cheering up. LOL**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Don't own Twilight.**

"No. That is not for me."

"But he'll love it."

"No, he won't. He'll hate it. Others guys would look, and he'd come right off that stage. I'm not trying to piss him off the minute we get back together."

"It is a little short," Rose admitted. A little short? My ass would be hanging out of that dress. Nope.

"Yes, it is. Moving on."

We settle on a just slightly longer red and black Southwestern print dress to honor Jas's Texas roots. If I add my leather jacket and Docs, I think it'll be tough enough. Rose buys a long sleeve, very low cut black blouse and tells me it will go perfectly with her leather pants. Rose. In leather pants. Jas will have nothing to worry about. No one will be looking at me. We go to the food court and get completely unhealthy and very fattening food. Decadence is apparently the word of the day.

"Thank God you're not like that insane munchkin of a best friend of mine. Can you imagine being here at 4am? I mean, look how crowded it is now!"

"What time did she make Mike get up?" She's laughing, but the horror is real.

"I'm not sure she let him sleep. Last year they stayed up all night because she was afraid to sleep thought the alarm clock. Black Friday should be a national holiday in her book. I'm surprised she doesn't lobby Hallmark to make cards."

"I can't even. I just can't. What's she wearing tonight?"

"I have no idea what Ali will be wearing tonight. She won't tell me. That scares me a little, to be honest, Rose," I kind of joke.

"Well, if she won't tell_ you_, I have no hope of getting it out of her." I look up from my egg rolls quickly and see her downcast eyes. "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you."

"She does. I thought you both did. Frankly, I'm surprised you wanted to hang out."

"Rose-"

"No, no. I get it. I really fucked up that night. I should never have attacked you. I didn't mean to, I really didn't. But I guess it came out super bitchy."

"I'm over it," I tell her, hoping it's true.

"Ali isn't." She's right.

"Ali is very protective of me. She doesn't handle people being mean to me very well."

"I can tell," she chuckles, then becomes thoughtful. "Why?"

"Huh?" There's that eloquence I'm famous for.

"Why? I mean, you can clearly take care of yourself."

I sigh. I don't talk about it. I haven't even put it into so many words for Jas. It's not like I hide it, I just don't usually have to explain Ali's protectiveness.

"It's kind of leftover from when were kids. I have OCD. Ali and Ed were my champions when we were little, you know? They shut up the kids who made fun of me. It wasn't too bad, but I used to line up my crayons, and eat in a weird, compartmentalized way. Kids laughed, made me cry. I've more or less gotten control of it now, but she has a hard time not jumping to my defense. I did the same for her and Edward, though. She was always tiny, and he was a dork until just a couple of years ago."

"Wow. That explains… a lot, really."

"Like?" I question.

"The lists, for one thing. A holdover?"

"Yeah, more like a progression. It's one of the ways I manage it. Helps me calm the buzz in my head."

"Uh huh. Explains the fiasco with Edward, too. Some of it, anyway."

"How?"

"Your closeness. Your unwillingness to shut him out. Your need to fix and protect him. Does Jas know?" How did she pick me apart so easily? Maybe it's just obvious, and I'm oblivious. That sounds right.

"Uh, kind of? He knows I have to make the lists, that I need to. I haven't explained too much."

"Maybe you should."

"Maybe. I've never had to before."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For trusting me enough to tell me all that."

I hope I haven't made a bad call. Emmett loves her, and I like her. I think she's a good person, just a little quick to judge. But haven't I been guilty of bad judgment, too? She does sense that I need to change the subject.

"So, New York. How long will you be gone?"

"Just a long weekend. Esme wants to get back home. Edward will be home soon. She and Ali are losing it, they want him home so badly."

"It'll be fine, you know. With Jasper, I mean."

"How do you figure?" I know she's right, I just want to know how she knows, you know?

"He almost died without you. He won't fuck up again. He loves you."

"I love him, too."

"I know. That's why I think this friendship, yours and mine, is worth working at. Jas and Em. And I guess you don't suck." We both laugh and the rest of the afternoon is easier.

I stick with Rose for the rest of the day since we're in Port Angeles already. Her apartment is exactly as I pictured; sparse but beautiful. We change and she makes me feel ugly. Damn, the woman is gorgeous. Leather pants were invented for her. We won't see Jas before the club; the guys need to practice and "bond" before playing. Emmett, however, called four times before she gave him the okay to come over. I have the feeling he was afraid one or both of us might be bruised and baldheaded by time he got here.

"Hi, Rosie," he says, swooping in and kissing her. "Bells, " he greets tentatively, until I open my arms for a hug. Brother bear grabs me up for a great big squeeze.

"Breathing, Em, want to keep breathing," I kid.

"Glad you're here. Where's Little Bit?" Wow. He hasn't called Ali that in a very, very long time. He must be more bothered about all this than I thought.

"We're meeting her and Mike at the club. You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. You two look amazing. Ready to go?"

He's a little off, but not worryingly so. Maybe he just needs to rave it up tonight. We'll just have to make she he has some fun. Speeding a bit through downtown to R Bar, I make up my mind that tonight will be amazing for all of us. I'm back with Jas, Rose and I are close to being friends again, Ali will be by my side; it's bound to be awesome. I get a text from Mikey; they're already inside. The place is packed when we get there, wall to wall in front of the stage. I guess the national day of family togetherness yesterday inspired a mass exodus for all points away-from-those-people. I know I'm ready to let loose. It's been a while.

The tension is a bit thick for my liking, though, when the two assembled Cullen siblings get close to each other. Em is trying to talk to Ali. She's nodding, fake smiling, then turning away. What the hell? Can't we have just one, just ONE, stress-free night? Emmett sighs, shakes his head, then grabs Rose's arm and heads to the bar. She's their DD tonight, so he must just want her near. Alice is desperately trying to look like she couldn't give a shit, and failing at it.

"What the fuck, Ali?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what the actual fuck? Emmett spill grape juice on your white jeans? You guys were fine yesterday!"

"Thanks for covering your concern with condensed bitchy, Bella."

"I'm sorry, Ali," I apologize while moving her toward the bathrooms. Every girl's private office, you know. "I'm just a little lost here."

"He doesn't want to be there when he comes home!"

"What?" I feel like I should have already caught on, but I had a refreshment or two at Rose's place.

"Emmett. He doesn't want to be there to welcome Edward home."

"Oh. Ali," I moan. I don't know what else to say. Ed's return has her nervous, but there is nothing in this world that could keep her from being there the moment he steps foot back on Cullen soil. Half of her has been gone a long time.

"He should be there. We're a family. We should all be there to support him. Em just won't stop being mad," she sniffles, refusing to give in to the sobs that threaten.

"When did all this happen?" Things really were fine when they left my house.

"He called last night when he and Rose left your house to let Mom know he was on his way home. She reminded him of Eddie's return date, and he told he wouldn't be there. She's been crying since then, although she tried not to let me see. He's being stubborn."

"He's being hurt."

"What? That's bullsh-"

"Wait, wait. I'm having a moment of insight here." That gets her to crack a real smile.

"Do tell."

"Emmett was angry, sure. We saw that very plainly. But Edward hurt him, too, Ali. He lied to him, he used him, he threw everything Em tried to do for him in his face. Then he got pissed because wouldn't do more. It can't be easy for him. Ed has some fence mending to do. I don't really think I blame Em."

"I fucking hate when you have clarity, you know that?"

"I do. And besides, Em will never let Esme down. He'll be there, if only for her."

"You think you're so smart," she sasses, then hugs me. Two seconds later, she's fixing her make up. How she carts that much shit around in such a tiny purse is beyond me. She and Hermione Granger must shop in the same place. "How do I look?"

"Awesome is not a big enough word. Have I told you yet tonight that you're a rock star?"

"Not yet."

She is, though. This fashion fiend has taken a very large Rolling Stones t-shirt and turned it into a very small dress. Tights, boots, unnecessary but oh-so-chic geek glasses. She looks amazing.

We leave the bathroom together, but she sprints off when she spots her biggest brother downing a beer. AS I watch her leap onto his back and muss his hair, I feel someone walk up to me.  
>Thanks, Bella, " Mike says with great sincerity.<p>

"For what?"

"That," he replies, pointing at his love and her brother with the neck of his own beer. I believe Mikey will be toasted by evening's end. "I could not get her to talk to him. You, my dear, are magic."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. But, really. She's needed you, and you've been there. I never doubted you would be, but you had your own shit going on."

"I could never let her down. Not on purpose."

"I know that, too. He comes home soon," he says of his once and, hopefully, future friend. "Do you think we'll all finally get back to normal?" Yeah, Mikey is gonna be wrecked.

"Define 'normal,'"I challenge.

"Touché. Here, have a beer," he smiles as he puts a brew in my hand and guides me closer to the stage. Where the hell did he have that?

The show, as usual, is mesmerizing. They've done some work on the lighting changes and added some new original songs. The covers are inspired, and Jas makes sure to include the Ray Lamontaigne song I loved so much. The boys are tight, and strong, and sweaty, and _on_. An hour and a half of being enveloped in a mass of swaying, singing people almost doesn't register beside that same hour and a half of being eye fucked from the stage. I've missed this so much.

The crowd cheers and yells until Southern Comfort gives in and returns for their encore. Picking up his guitar, my Jas has something to say.

"I almost decided not to sing this for y'all tonight, but I've decided to open up, just a little. This is called 'Long Distance Phone Call' and it's a sad song about a bad time."

_Oh why am I the weird guy_

_Who always sits alone_

_Oh why do I care_

_No one calls on the goddamn phone_

_Well I've grown complacent_

_When no one knows I have feelings too_

_And I feel this way especially when I'm with you_

_You make me feel alone_

_You make me feel like a long distance phone call_

_You make me feel alone_

_Whenever I'm with you you make me feel alone_

_Well I could surely try to make you recognize_

_That these poor pleading eyes_

_Ain't asking that much_

_They're asking can I touch you_

There's more, but I can't hear it. It's awful and beautiful and I hope it's not true even though I know it is. I made it so hard for him. I focused so much on myself, that for a while, I forgot about him. I won't do it again.

We're all sitting around. The bar has thinned out, and we pull a few together to make one big one, catching up and getting drunk. Mike beat us all there.

"Did you know," he slurs to no one in particular, "that Alice's father tried to murder me yesterday?"

"The fuck?" Larry asks this before we have time to tell him to keep his smart mouth shut.

"Exactly. He tried to kill me, using a Native American child as a weapon, no less. And then, get this shit, then Alice makes me go Christmas shopping for the man! Shopping! A fucking monogrammed fucking wallet. Fuck."

"Fuck, man," is Larry's comeback. He is also inebriated. Good times.

"Exactly," Mikey shouts, so very happy to have found a kindred soul so attuned to the what-the-fuckness of his situation. "That has to be against the law."

"Christmas shopping?" Oh, God, Jeremy, no.

"No. Fuck, no. Using Native American children as weapons to murder innocent boyfriends. I'm calling the fucking cops."

"Fuck." Thanks, Jeremy. Just thank you.

"Exactly. Bella's dad's a cop. But he's Killer Dad's best friend. I'm fucked."

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

"This is amazing," I tell Jas, giggling. Pretty sure Emmett is going to swallow his tongue. He sure try to breathe through the laughter. Ali just looks on, bemused. Jas seems pensive, though.

"Did you hate it?" he asks, pulling me closer with an arm over my shoulder. "The song."

"I loved the song. I hate that I inspired it."

"I wrote it not long after, well, after."

"It's you, laid right out for me. How can I not love it?"

"Thanks, Babe."

"The next song will be a bit a bit naughty, though. I promise. You will have to write it laying down, baby."

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

**A/N: I said New York prep, but not this time. I wanted smut, but couldn't make it work tonight. Between this, my other stories, the Gishwhes scavenger hunt, my son's COLLEGE orientation tomorrow, and my imminent return to school, I'm tapped out. Hope you enjoy some of this silliness anyway. Smooches, baby!**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: Thought I'd been kidnapped by pirates, didn't you? Don't own Twilight.**

"Huh."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, is that it? Is that what all the fuss is about?"

"Well, yes."

"Where's the rest of it?"

"Bella, this is it. That's all there is."

"I thought it would be bigger."

"That's what everyone says."

"It's still pretty, though. But I'm not waiting in that line. We can ice skate at home. Where to next, Ali?"

"We've seen the Rockefeller tree, now we need to go to Macy's."

"Is Macy's like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"An overcrowded disappointment."

"Kinda."

"Whatever. Let's go."

I follow my little buddy back down Fifth Avenue, literally holding onto her coattail. If I let go, I'm afraid I'll lose her forever among the elbow-to-elbow crowd pressing in on us from all sides on this sidewalk. New York has been eye opening. Beautiful, ugly, welcoming, overwhelming, less than I expected, more than I hoped for. I love it. I love its apparent contradictions and hidden dichotomies. I love its acceptance and judgment. Try going into Michael Kors dressed as I am, looking the perfect wide-eyed tourist, then have your best friend whip out her dad's Black Card; you'll see a perfect example of what I mean.

I love it here. I think I belong here. I can totally see Jas and me here after graduation. I can still go to NYU, even though it's so far away from the boys, and- Wait. What? Jas and me? Since when did I start thinking of a future for us? Together. I stop cold at the realization that I have taken a very large mental leap forward in my relationship with a guy I just got back together with. Thankfully, I haven't stopped in the middle of the street.

"Bella? Are you all right?"

"Um…" Am I all right? If not for the puffs of air visibly exiting my mouth, I wouldn't even be sure I'm breathing. "I'm having a moment."

"Well, you can't have it HERE! Let's go to Au Bon Pain. It's right here at Rockefeller. Move! Shit. We're both gonna get run over by a BAGILLION people."

She continues to mutter but leads me gently a little ways form the Tree to the blessed smell of good coffee and luscious pastry. She is the best short person ever. We share an almond croissant and an orange scone, grasp large lattes to warm our hands, and Ali waits patiently for my moment to become vocal.

"When you see your future, you see Mike, right?"

"Yes. Definitely," she replies very quickly, big blues shooting up to catch mine. That caught her attention.

"When did that start? Like, at what point did you start thinking of yourself as 'we' instead of 'I'?"

"Um, I don't really know. It just occurred to me gradually, I guess. Once I realized I was doing it, I was already used to it. Why?"

"I thought 'we' instead of 'I' just now. On the street. I was thinking how Jas and I should move here after graduation. I had the whole plan in my head. No hesitation, no doubt. Scared the shit out of me."

"Wow."

"'Wow'? That's your grand insight? Thanks, Ali."

"Well, what do you want me to say? It's kind of a 'wow' moment, don't you think?"

"Yeah. Ok. I'm just, like, fuck. What do I do with this?"

"Enjoy it."

"That simple?"

"Yep. What was the plan?" she asks while taking another sip of the holy-shit-this-is-great coffee.

"Me at NYU. Jas working at a garage in Jersey but playing CBGB on the weekends."

"You know CBGB closed its doors years ago, Bella."

"I know. My plans, my rules. Don't harsh my fantasy, Mary Alice."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Isabella." We have a raised eyebrow duel. Sketch would explode in equal parts delight and fear.

"So, it's a good thing, right? Me envisioning a future. Like, a grown up future," I ask, unsure of what I expect from her, or me, or Jas. "Wait! Will this creep him out? Should I just forget it? Should I tell him?"

"Bella! Stop," she says kindly, as if to a frightened deer. She reaches out and stills my hands. Apparently, I was shredding what was left of my scone. "Stick a pin in this for the time being, ok? Enjoy your fantasy, enjoy New York, enjoy picturing Jas all sad and pining while you're here. Let's cross some more stuff off of your list. Then, when we get home, you can figure out if this still freaks you out." She stops for a moment and a sly smile rolls across her pert little mouth. "I bet you won't be freaked. I bet you just need to get used to it. You love him."

"I really do."

Macy's is indeed much too fucking crowded. It's like Tourists-R-Us in there. We don't buy anything because we only have two more days left in New York, and we don't want to spend them in line at a register. Thank God our hotel isn't_ too_ far away. I have to pee and the lines for the bathrooms have reduced some of the women standing in them to tears. We decide to head back to the room before we strike out on our Great Met Excursion. The Museum will take up the majority of our day.

We're staying at The Waldorf-Astoria. Yes, that one. When Esme told Mom and me that we would be staying at the Waldorf, we both cried a little. We certainly screamed like four-year-olds being given the key to Wonka's secret stash. The Cullen women decided to go all out for this year's trip. A two bedroom suite. One for the Cullens, one for the Swans. The idea, so said our mothers, was for Ali and I to enjoy the city together during the day, while they did their mom stuff, but to spend time together as mothers and daughters in the evenings. Ali and I are pretty sure that this is just their way to keep us, and our fake IDs, out of the Manhattan nightclubs, but whatever. It has worked out beautifully. At the moment, however, I am enamored of the clean bathrooms available to me.

After freshening up and sending a this-is-where-we're-going text to Renee and Esme, we have the doorman get us a cab, and we're on our way to The Met. That's how I see it in my head: The Met. We've been to The Park, The Cathedral, The Statue, The Wax Museum, The Theater, and these last two days are for The Museums. Sure, we've shopped until I wished Alice would drop, but The Museums may be what I've been most excited for. Today The Met, tomorrow The MoMA.

The ride uptown isn't fast, traffic is much too crazy for that, but it's over much too quickly for me. After five days here, I'm still fascinated by everything I see. It's so not Forks. It's the anti-Forks. Jake would hate every asphalt-covered inch of it. I'd probably never get Seth to go home again if he ever gets to come here. Pulling up across from The Met is a milestone in my life, one of those moments I don't think I'll ever forget, like the first time I laid eyes on the lions in front of The Library. The façade is inspiring and iconic, and I can't wait to get inside and expand my artistic horizons.

What happens, though, is not only the expansion of horizons, but the gaining of the ability to consider possibilities of beauty I could never otherwise imagine. Ancient, Greek, Egyptian, Pre-Columbian, Renaissance, armor, glassware, paintings, textiles, photos, sculptures. The Impressionist galleries changed me at a cellular level, pretty sure. I spend an ungodly amount of money in The Gift Shop, and Ali laughs like a freak at me.

"So all it takes to get you to drop giant piles of money is a GIFT SHOP?"

"Not just _any_ gift shop, Ali. Don't cheapen it."

"What all did you buy?" Look at her, all smug.

"Christmas presents, Alice. Gifts for other people. And some prints for me. I am displaying generosity, bitch."

"Proud of you, Bella. Really. Now let's get a cab. My feet hurt."

While Alice naps, and I shower and change for dinner out with my mother, she and Esme walk in giggling like, well, like Ali and me. They have even more bags than we managed to wrestle into the room.

"Hello, mommies. How the hell are we supposed to get all the stuff we've bought home? Never gonna fit on the plane!"

"UPS, Bella. We'll ship it all home. Mary Alice and I do it every year. I'll have the concierge help me with it tomorrow."

"Brilliant, Esme."

"Eh. I have my moments."

Just as I'm about to argue Esme's awesomeness with her, my phone rings. It's my wild-eyed Southern boy.

"Hi, Jas." I'm pretty sure he can hear my smile. I can totally hear his smirk.

"Hi, Babe."

"Miss me?"

"More than it is manly to admit."

"Good. I miss you, too."

"How much?"

"Enough."

"What do you miss?" Oh, hell, he's using the voice. I love the voice.

"I miss privacy. I'm in the hotel room with Ali and the mommies. No dirty talk for you, cowboy."

"Well, shit." His disappointment is tangible even through the phone. "How much longer before you're home?"

"Whining is not badass, Jas. You're going to lose your cred. We're leaving the day after tomorrow. I'll be seeing you the day after that."

"Too fuckin' long."

"I agree." We both hear the double meaning. We've seen each other roughly every two or three days since we've been back together. So the separation sucks ass. But the point we're both stuck on is the fact that we are finally going to have sex again. Finally. We've made out, we've fooled around, we've been practically naked, we've, ahem, explored the scenery. Thoroughly. But we've stopped just short of the full on experience.

At first, it was all about the boundaries I was pretending I was going to enforce. Then I really enforced them. Jas and I are both serious about making this work, so jumping each other's bones, like we did the first time around, just didn't seem like the way to go. By the time we figured that that idea was fucking busted from the jump, we couldn't find the time alone. After Thanksgiving, I was busy planning for this trip, and Southern Comfort had a full schedule, not to mention that every damn car in the Pacific Northwest broke down at one time. He barely got to do anything at all for a while besides fix engines and strum his guitar. Stolen moments in a truck didn't seem all that romantic, and Jas has been insisting on romance for our second first time. Now I'm on the other side of the country. Horny doesn't even begin to describe.

Just as I'm getting worked up and homesick, Ali comes bounding into the living room of the suite. Guess it's time to get our evening started.

"Gotta go, Babe," he says, just as I'm about to do the same.

"Ok. Me, too. Dinner at a landmark tonight."

"I detect an eye roll. Where you goin'?"

"I have no idea. All Mom gave me was that one hint. I'll call in the morning with details."

"I can hardly wait. Love you." I never get tired of that. Never.

"Love you, too." He hangs up before me because I usually drag it out, and that kind of irks him. I almost like it that he's telling me when I piss him off. It's a new thing for us, that kind of warts-and-all honesty. We always used to tell the truth, but the little nitpicky stuff was left out. Maybe that makes us more grown up this time around. Or maybe we're just picking nits. I don't know.

"Where are we going, Mom?" Ali asks Esme. She's so Twink-like right now. She's wearing pink long johns with little red cherries all over them, and rubbing her eyes. Her hair is sticking up in every possible direction; it's obvious she napped with her hat on. Girl sleeps like it's a medal sport.

"Le Bernardin, dear. Dress well," Esme responds while tossing a garment bag from Bergdorf''s at her daughter.

The squeal, dear Lord, the squeal. Somewhere in Manhattan, an entire dog pound is trying valiantly to come to her rescue.

"Where are _we_ going, Mom?" I ask with a hint of trepidation. Nothing fancy-shmancy-frou-frou-la-la, please, please, please…

"Peter Luger, Bella. Put your eating pants on," she tells me with delight. Now I'm squealing.

"My eating pants! Yes!" It's ok that I'm dancing and doing the ass shake around the room. I'm happy. Grabbing my mother and doing the J.D. and Turk "Steak Night" song from _Scrubs_ might be going overboard. Don't care.

"It's in Brooklyn, honey, so go get dressed. We have a long subway ride ahead of us," Mom tells me when the song is over, shooing me toward our room.

Ali and I emerge from our rooms at the same time, but we could not look any different if we'd tried. Definitely not going to the same place.

"Are you really wearing that?"

"Peter Luger, Alice. Steak, creamed spinach, and sauce. Thus, eating pants," I inform while waving at myself, Vanna White style.

"How do you know all that? This is your first time in New York!"

"Hey, I watch Food Network."

After one subway train transfer and a little walk to the restaurant, I have discovered I was woefully unprepared by Food Network for Peter Luger. My eating pants are simply not big enough. We aren't getting a doggy bag, because really? On the subway? But, oh my God, I want to franchise this place in Washington. For our starters we shared Luger's trademark wedge salad with blue cheese dressing and tomato and onion salad with sauce. We could only in good conscience choose for our entrée the famous steak for two, but I have to wonder, two what? Lumberjacks? Werewolves? A perfectly cooked medium rare porterhouse served with German potatoes and creamed spinach. After all the fine dining dinners we've had since we got to New York, I think Mom and I have finally found our favorite meal.

"What could possibly top this? Where do you think we should have our last meal in the city, Bella?"

"Ali and I want to go to Babbo. It's Mario Batali's place in the Village. That sound ok?"

"Yes, I think so. Esme and I were actually-" Just then her cell rings. "Hello? No, you don't have to- Well, then, all right. Thank you, Esme!"

"Well?" She's being much too slow in filling me in. I hope she understood me through the cheesecake and schlag filling my mouth.

"Esme and Alice were not happy with the thought of us walking to the subway so late. They've sent a car. It will be here in twenty minutes."

"Holy crap," I sigh, dribbling the delicious house made whipped cream. "I love New York."

The car leaves us at the entrance of the Waldorf and the doorman greets us politely as he ushers us in. It's still surreal. Mom and I lean heavily against the walls of the elevator, both feeling the full-tummy-sleepy feeling overtake us.

"Yep. They've got the Peter Luger look," Esme laughs when we finally make it into the room.

"Once just might be enough for that experience," Mom groan/moans.

"Don't say that. We'll have to take Dad and the boys at least once. Jake may just buy a permanent table."

"Oh, my goodness. You're right, Bella."

"What did you guys have?" I ask Ali.

"We had the tasting menu. I don't have the words to describe it. So amazing. We've wanted to go for the last few years, but this was the first year Mom could snag a table for the right week. So worth the wait."

"Esme, the girls want to go to Babbo tomorrow night. Sound good?" My mom is getting it all squared away now. She just wants to go to bed and sleep in tomorrow.

"Sounds lovely," Esme yawns. "Last minute things tomorrow, shopping and shipping, et cetera. Babbo tomorrow night. Last morning in the city, then we fly out. But for now, I need sleep."

"Me, too. Goodnight, girls," my mother agrees.

Ali and I chat for all of ten minutes until we both yawn like toddlers. Off to bed with us, where I dream of a dirty talking cowboy.

The MoMA breaks my brain. Jasper Johns? Gorgeous. Jackson Pollock? Inspiring. Andy Warhol? Tacky but iconic. Chairs hanging upside down from the ceiling? Confusing. People standing in front of a plain white canvas, debating its challenging depiction of the human condition? Hilarious. We loved every minute. I have left the gift shop a mess in my wake.

Babbo is incredible. I can now say I've eaten steamed cockles and "Chianti Stained Pappardelle with Wild Boar" at the same meal. I couldn't wear my eating pants, but the food is totally worth wearing a dress.

We spend the morning all together, strolling up Fifth Avenue to Central Park, taking the time to stare at and pose with all the Christmas windows. Macy's is beautiful, but Saks and Lord& Taylor are breathtaking. We brave FAO Schwartz because that is what you do in New York at Christmas. We take a cab back to the Waldorf and grab our bags. Sadly, we arrive at JFK. The purchases have been shipped; well, except for the last minute stuff none of us seemed able to resist. I had no idea how expensive weight overages are on a cross-country flight. Time to leave this place. The only reason I'm looking forward to getting on the plane is the knowledge that all my men are waiting for me to land.

And land we do. JFK to O'Hare. A twelve day layover. Ok, fine, a nine hour layover for weather over the Rockies, but it feels a lot longer. Chicago weather is brilliant, so we leave the airport and do some sightseeing. And eat deep dish pizza. We all realize that that might have been a mistake once we board our next flight. Chicago to Seattle is uneventful, and we land again, this time in the beautiful, salt-aired Pacific Northwest.

"Renee! Bella!" We are both captured in strong, familiar arms. My cheek is tickled by a much-missed mustache as my dad welcomes us home. The boys are bouncing on their feet just behind him, impatiently waiting their turns. As Seth grabs hold of Mom, and Jake spins me around while saying he didn't miss me at all, I catch sight of Esme being squeezed tightly by Carlisle. He looks like the light has returned to his day. Dad reclaims Mom from the boys and plants one on her, no shame, no embarrassment.

"OH MY GOD!" I hear Ali shriek. Mikey has made the trip with Charlie. Wonder how that went. Mike better watch it; there are Native American children close at hand, after all. But he holds my little buddy close, paying no attention to any of the rest of us, and I realize I want that. I miss Jas more in this moment than I did the entire time we were apart.

"Hi, Babe."

And with the sound of those two simple words, all my doubts, all my fear, all my lingering tickles of freaking out, are gone. He's here. He came to get me. He and I are _we_, and I love it.

**A/N: I wanted Bella to have some time to herself, time with Ali, before she make a full on commitment to a certain someone. Also, who doesn't love New York at Christmas? (Ok, I'm sure SOME people don't love it. Lol) It's taken a couple of rewrites to get to a place where I don't hate this chapter. Turk and JD's "Steak Night" song and dance link on my profile.**

**Thank you for sticking with me. So much has happened in the last month and a half. The scavenger hunt, the start of the school year (I got a promotion, so more work than even I'M used to. Supervisor duties in addition to three English class, two Spanish classes – which are new for me – yearbook and senior advisor responsibilities, plus planning the high school social.), my youngest son started college, I've been sick, and we had a family wedding. I've also taken on two tutoring jobs that now take up about 8-10 hours a week after school. I'm tired and my brain has been fried. **

**I told you that to tell you this. This story will be finished. I love Jas and Babe, and I love you. You take the time to read my ramblings, and a good number of you take the time to tell me what you thought. And a few of you have become true friends. I would NEVER leave you hanging.**

**AND…. The next chapter is 2000-2500 words of dirty, sweaty, naughty smut. So there's that.**


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: Close your eyes and plug your ears...**

"Oh, my God! I can't believe you came to Seattle!" I can't stop myself from gushing. Still. It's a very Alice thing to do, but I just can't help it.

"I missed you, Babe," he breathes against my neck. His arms tighten even more around me as he whispers, "Don't ever leave me for that long again." I know that he's talking about more than New York.

"I promise. I missed you, too. I missed this," I tell him, stretching to my full, unimpressive length on the bed, moulding myself to his side.

"You have no idea how much I missed this," he assures me with feeling. Then he shifts his hand and feels what he's been missing. I purr. I like purring. Purring is good.

After he met us at the airport with our families and Mike, Jas went out to dinner with us. It was so late by the time we finished that the Swan family decided a hotel sounded like a great idea for the night. It seemed like an awesome plan to Ali and Mikey, too, but Carlisle disagreed. The Cullens made the three and a half hour drive back to Forks while my dad got a room for he and Mom, and another for Jake and Seth. Jas got one for us. On another floor. Then requested an extra Do Not Disturb sign.

We entered our room, and the clothes had to go. Right away. Not a lot of talking. We've spent the last few weeks talking. Time for less talk and more sex. Neither one of us kept our cool very well during the foreplay portion of the evening, the condom went on, and we rolled around on the bed. But since we are both hung up on the more-romantic-than-animalistic approach to our sexual reunion, we pulled apart in an effort to regain some control. Which brings us here.

You know, that moment when I am DONE fucking WAITING.

"Gonna show me just how much you missed it?"

"Oh, hell yeah!"

"Yee haw, cowboy."

He moves his hands again, wraps them around my waist, and rolls us until I'm straddling him. Now we're getting somewhere. I slide over him to reach his mouth and tug on the motherfucking lip ring. He groans.

"Missed that, too," he sighs, eyes squinting shut as I shift my weight. "As long as I've had that thing, you're the only one to ever be turned on by it."

"That can't even be true, Jas. I'm just the only girl honest enough to act on it. It's sexy. Just like the tats," I say, dipping my head to drag my tongue along the black line designs on his chest. "And the abs," I add, continuing my downward journey to outline those well-defined muscles. I feel them contract when I tell him, "And the just sincerely incredible 'V' you got going on." Pausing to admire the aforementioned 'V', my hands skim over his marked skin to grasp the part of him straining for attention. "And, of course," I say a little louder to be heard over his moan, "this. This right here. This dick is pretty damn sexy, too."

"Shit, Babe," he grinds out, twitching in my hands.

I take him in then, tasting the salt, feeling the smooth skin, filling my mouth with the hardened evidence of anticipation and frustration. His fingers tangle in my hair, and a string of unintelligible babbling falls from his lips as my own tighten around him. I'm not playing around here, and I set a fast pace, just so damn happy to be this close to him again, so intimate. The idea that giving a blow job holds no benefit for the girl is utter bullshit to me. Jas is definitely not complaining, but the fact is that he could never make himself more physically vulnerable to me. I hold a lot of power between my teeth right now. Although I'm pretty sure not many guys getting head are truly considering the danger, including Jas, for me the control is a turn on. The thought that his pleasure is completely dependent on me, well, that gets me hot. Him, too, I guess.

"Babe, you gotta stop," he pants, tugging lightly with the fist in my hair. "Gonna be a short night if you keep that up."

"Sorry, baby," I coo, licking my lips. "Don't want that."

"Don't be sorry. Just get up here!" I crawl back up his body with his help. He captures my lips, tongue aggressive and probing my mouth, tasting himself. That, too, gets me all kinds of wound up. The hand on the back of my head that he'd been using to hold me to him suddenly disappears, only to be felt along with the other gripping my ass. The light touch and the callouses grazing the skin there, the gentleness of his hands and the hunger of his mouth, just the neverending fight between the hard and soft of him, sends my mind reeling. I am left with only the feelings, the sensations, the reactions to his body of my own. God, I really did miss this.

I sway atop him in time with our breathing, his fingers slipping along the inner contours of my ass, inching closer to a place as yet unexplored by us. And I am just not fucking ready for that. Wow. I think we found my line. Releasing his lips, I sit up and run my hands down his arms to his hands. I pull them away from what I have now established in my mind as a _no-go _spot, and place them firmly on my breasts. These are a _yes, please_ spot. The small smirky grin on his face tells me he knows exactly what I'm doing. Damn. I thought I was being smooth as hell about it.

"Hey,Jas?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"You came all the way to Seattle to welcome me home."

"Yeah," he says biting his lip, palming and squeezing my tits.

"We had the whole swing-me-around in the airport moment."

"Yeah, we sure did."

"That's, like, romance on steroids, wouldn't you say?"

"I would. Fuck yes, some romantic shit," he agrees, catching my drift.

"Can we fuck now?" I have no nice or sweet or subtle left inside me. I am one big bunch of I-need-an-orgasm.

"Well, damn, Babe, when you ask that way-" He lets go of my boobs and quickly takes hold of my waist. I know where this is headed, so I raise my body just a bit and give myself room to take matters into my own hands, so to speak. It's been a while, and he's not exactly small, so I take it slow. So tauntingly, satisfyingly slow, until he's finally where we've both wanted him to be.

Rocking back and forth, I feel him hanging on for the ride as I tighten my knees to his hips. He's so damn gorgeous, mouth dropped open, eyes heavy-lidded and half-closed. I now see the wisdom of Jas's insistence that our room be on a different floor from my family's. The sounds we are unleashing are unfit for familial ears. I lean forward a little, my hands resting on his chest, needing the stability. God, he feel so good.

Jas slides his hands up my sides with a barely-there touch until he reaches my shoulders. The grip on my arms slowly tightens as he reaches my wrists. Pulling my hands off of his chest, he pushes my arms behind my back and captures both wrists in one hand, opening me up to him completely. Now I'm the one who's vulnerable. He has in the past displayed his enjoyment at exerting physical control. I'll never forget the first time he put his hand at my throat during sex. And as long as it's only during sex, I can handle it. In fact, I can do a lot more than handle it. It's another of those things I never would have believed I would like. But damn if it doesn't get me off every time.

His free hand travels upward from my stomach, past my breasts, along my throat, until I feel his fingers at my lips. It's only at the moment he pushes his thumb in my mouth that I realize I've closed my eyes. I suck on his thumb for a moment before he pulls it out. The look in those blue-green eyes promises mischief, and I can't wait. He yanks my arms back just hard enough for me to know he means it. Perched atop him, bowed slightly back, I am held in place as Jas quickens the pace beneath me. And then he fucking does it, the bit of mischief his sparkling eyes warned me about. Using the thumb I wet for him, he teases the place where I touched myself when he wasn't around. Gotta love a man who knows his way around a clit. All hail internet porn.

His hips snap into me, his hand tugs me back, his thumb works feverishly, and I am panting and moaning like a pro. Holy shit.

"Holy shit! Oh, Jas, oh, Jas." About as close to coherent as I'm going to get at the moment.

"You look so fuckin' good. You _feel_ so fuckin' good, Babe. Damn, I love you."

And that is the end of all thought. The _I love you_ did me in. It's all feeling, a sharp, sudden bliss, seemingly made only more intense with the yell I somehow sound despite the fact that I can feel no air in my lungs. Dragging in some much needed oxygen, I open my eyes and look down at my arrogantly smirking sex god. A beautiful, skilled, orgasm-giving sex god. I start to tell him how amazing that was, but before I get out a word, he releases my hands and flips me onto my back.

We aren't done yet.

Wrists once again caught up, this time in both of his hands, my arms are stretched above my head. He lowers hi body onto mine, every possible inch of skin touching. So close. I lock my legs around him and will him to move. He does, and we set a more languorous rhythm than before. His lips find mine, and he kisses me with such passion that I believe his simple _I love you _set him on fire, too. I am certainly grateful for the chance to catch my breath when he moves his kisses to my neck. Frees me up to talk, too.

"I love you, too, Jasper. So much. I love you so much."

I almost feel that too sweet sensation that signals a chick flick moment until Jas groans at my words. He lets go of my wrists to hold himself up with one hand and to run his other hand to my thigh. Having given himself more leverage, he hits places that make me moan.

"I fuckin' love it when you say that," he pants. And hell if he doesn't prove it.

We're hot and sweaty and gasping and getting louder and louder. His fingers are going to leave bruises on my thigh, but I don't give one damn. So worth it. He gets faster and harder and deeper until I think I can't take any more; then he does more, and I take it anyway. The headboard is one of those padded panel deals and for that, I am very grateful. I am so close again, and I want to tell him, but he beats me to it.

"I need you to get there, Babe. I need it _now,_" he says, looking into my eyes. And that slick fucker leans down and bites my bottom lip. Hard. And I come. HARD. Before my brain can even register the surprise, I am launched over the edge a second time tonight. My orgasm triggers his own, and it's difficult to tell who is holding on tighter, who is yelling louder, who is more relieved. It's been too long.

We dispose of the condom, take a breath, and lie on our backs holding hands.

"Worth the wait?" I ask, turning to look at him.

"Yes, most definitely," is his reply, leveling that dead sexy smirk at me. "But if we ever have to wait that long again, I might die."

"Jas, if we ever go that long again, it'll be _because_ we're dead."

And we fall asleep. Together, happy, and satisfied.

**A/N: I have discovered it is damn hard to write the sessy times just because you DECIDE to write the sessy times. Hope this work for you!**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: Don't own Twilight. But that light at the end of this tunnel? Yeah, that's mine.**

The lights on the tree are twinkling. The soft glow fades in and out in time with my breathing. Or rather, I have timed my breathing to coincide with the lights; I need something to help keep the hyperventilation at bay. I think I'm going to urge Ali to do the same.

"Is it time?" she asks for the one hundredth time in the last half hour.

"Not yet, Mary Alice. Soon, dear. Very soon," Esme tells her quietly, not even a little impatient. She rubs her hand in small, calming circles on Ali's back and looks at the clock on the mantle. "Not long now at all, and we'll all be together again."

Edward comes home today. I have no idea why I'm here other than the fact that I can't stay away. I'm confusing myself. Jas knows I'm here. I told him yesterday, and he did not lose his shit. I explained why I wanted to be here, and he told me to tell Eddie hello. He's not exactly happy about it, but he accepts it for what it is. I'm very proud of us both.

So I'm here, at the Cullens'. I'm here; Ali, Mike, Esme, Emmett and Rose are here. Edward is not here. He's stalled Carlisle all day. This little dinner that Esme has put together with family and friends is apparently not the way he envisioned his homecoming. Seems he is as nervous to come home as we are to have him here. At least, I hope it's nerves and not avoidance.

"Mom, I can leave if you think it'll make it easier for him. Tonight's about him, anyway. Rose and I can-" Emmett stops speaking when Esme whips her head around to level a stare his way.

"No," Esme snaps, very unlike herself. This whole damn thing has been torture for her. "You will stay here and greet your brother when he walks through that door." Tears stream down her perfectly made up face, but she refuses to give in to the sobbing that threatens to escape.

"Mom, it just might be less pressure on him if I'm not here. We didn't part on the best of terms."

"No, Emmett. Stay. I just want my family back together." Ali and Emmett go to their mother, offering comfort and words of assurance.

Mike, Rose, and I stand off to the side, watching these people we love so much finally begin to crumble under the weight of worry and guilt.

"I've never felt so uncomfortable in this house," Mike whispers to me.

"Really?" I have to ask. Carlisle has always watched him pretty closely.

"Yeah. I feel like I'm intruding," he says with shrug.

"Me, too," Rose sighs.

"Me, too," I agree. And this time, I don't take it personally or feel deliberately shut out. It's just that this is a family that needs time together.

"We should go," Mike tells me, and I know how hard it is for him to say that. Aside from the fact that we want to see Edward, we both feel the need to be here for Ali. He must know I'm thinking of her because he says, "She has Emmett with her. Ali will be okay, but we can come back to get her if she needs us. Let's go, Bella."

"Ok. Rose, do you want to come to my house? Or we can all go eat or something," I ask as we all make our way over to the family to say goodbye. But the door opens at that moment, and our escape is blocked.

He's gained a little weight. His hair is a bit longer than he usually wears it. His eyes are downcast. His swagger is gone, though I hope it is only hiding. But it's Edward, looking more like the Ed I remember than he has in a long time. No swagger, but no defiant glare, either. Shades of the geek he used to be.

Ali makes not a sound, but launches herself at her other half. He catches her easily like he expected it, and, of course, he did. She wraps herself around him like a child, arms around his shoulders and legs at his waist, and he holds her tightly. How they survived sixty days apart I will never know.

Emmett shuffles uncomfortably, never one to stay still, and attracts Ed's attention. Dropping Ali to her feet, he walks over to his big brother, his idol, his hero, and grabs him in a hug. Not that manly, back slapping kind of hug, but a fists-in-the-shirt, rapid-eye-blinking kind of hug.

"Thank you, Em. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, little bro. It's gonna be alright." My God. Haven't we all been waiting to hear those words?

Esme loses her valiant battle against escaping emotions and a small sob sounds. Edward releases his brother and hesitantly faces his mother, and I suddenly realize that his uneasiness with tonight's return has nothing to do with us; he's scared to face Esme. In one fluid movement, she is embracing him, reaching as far up as she can to hold as much of her son as is possible. Her shoulders shake and her grip tightens, though it seems impossible she could clasp him any closer.

Ed's request to see his mother only twice while he was away, and his refusal to allow Ali and Em to visit at all, broke a part of Esme. Her family is everything to her. Everything. It's why she and my mother are able to be such good friends. Though their individual approaches to motherhood could not be more different, their goals are the same: happy, healthy, unconditionally loved children. To see her family angry, hurting, and separated has been nothing short of devastating.

"I thought you'd be mad, Mom," Ed mumbles into his mother's shoulder.

Placing her small hands on his face and directing her teary gaze into his eyes, she assures him, "Nothing you could ever do would make me not want you here, Edward. Nothing. I am so happy to have you home."

Esme moves to Carlisle, embracing her husband, finally content that their family is again together. Ed takes the moment to dry his eyes, then turns to face three very uncomfortable friends of said family. Rose breaks the awkward pause.

Walking up to him, she gives his arm a pat and says, "Glad you're home, Eddie. Your brother has missed you."

"Thanks, Rose." Not exactly warm and fuzzy, but they don't really know each other. She gives him a genuine smile and a head nod, then moves to offer a comforting embrace to her clearly emotional boyfriend.

I hear Mike take a deep breath, and he squeezes my hand. I'm not sure if that was meant to calm me or himself, but it works for us both. Mikey looks down at me and smiles, then lets go and approaches our prodigal friend.

He gives him not a half-assed slap on the back, not a guy handshake thing, not quite the desperate gripping hug that happened with Emmett, either, but a real hug, unashamed to be seen. Mike has missed Ed for far longer than his time spent in rehab.

"Good to have you back, man," Mike tells him sincerely.

"I hope so, Mike. I know I have so much to make up for."

"We can talk about all that later, Ed. Right now, just be happy you're here." Mike never ceases to amaze me. How long has he been so awesome? I feel like I've missed out on a huge part of who he really is. Until recently, anyway. He is truly one of the best friends any of us has. I think we're all a bit guilty of taking him for granted. He backs away from Eddie and scoops up a silently crying Ali. I've never, ever seen her so utterly without words.

Before I'm ready, it's my turn. We stand staring at each other and the room seems to become impossibly still and silent. My instincts are at war; I want to both run into his arms and leave without a word. The distance between us is not empty, though the littered battlefield that occupies the space can't actually be seen by anyone but Ed and me. A broken heart, some unrealistic expectations, a bit of misplaced possessiveness, a jealous girlfriend, a pissed boyfriend, and too many years of love and friendship lay scattered before us. It seems too dangerous to cross, almost impossible.

And then his face crumbles, and he holds out his arms for me, and I make the journey across the hostile space, kicking aside each painful memory, every hurtful accusation, all of the blatant lies, and I finally reach my friend.

My friend. I hug him, and he clutches me tightly, and I cry, and he cries, and it feels good, not forced. Because he's my friend. It's all I feel. No regret, no longing for something more, no resentment that I don't have what I thought I wanted. He's back, and he's my friend, and I am happy.

"I missed you. Welcome home," I tell him then pull out of his arms. We need a new way of doing things. More independence, more distance, more thoughtfulness between us. I'm going to start now. What he needs is his family, and they need him, so I'm leaving. Mike is right; this is not the place for us tonight.

"Bella, I have so much to say," he pleads, not as ready as I am yet to let go. I have no doubt he'll get there.

"We'll talk. Really soon, as soon as you're ready. Right now, though, I have to go."

A small, familiar, much missed smile spreads on his face. "Where you off to?"

"Just home. I think tonight will be the annual wrap-the-gifts-before-Jake-finds-them night. He's been threatening to not only scope out his and Seth's stuff, but Jas's, too. Then he'd have to die, so I guess Mom and I are wrapping," I laugh, then see the slowly falling smile. I had to get used to a lot of changes this year. Ed will have to, too. "Jas says hi, by the way. He's happy you're doing better," I tell him quietly with a grin.

He shakes his head and casts his eyes downward, a small rueful smirk replacing the smile. "So much is different," he says, echoing my thoughts. "Need to wrap my head around some things."

"I know. I'll help."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He needs me, as much as I ever needed him. Of course, he does. He's my friend.

Rose and Mike go get dinner after all, but I decide to see if I can make good on the gift wrapping plan. As much as I love Mike, and as close as I can see myself becoming with Rose, I really do think I could use a creamy cocoa with my mom. Besides, they will be going back to the Cullen home to be with Ali and Em. Tonight, that just isn't my place.

"Hey! I'm home!" Fiona is my only greeting. Walking with her to the back door so I can let her wagging ass outside, I listen for sounds of life in the unexpectedly still house. After a few minutes, I hear someone shuffle down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Bella? What are you doing home so early? It's not even eight o'clock yet!" I take in her pajamas, notice the tea kettle on the stove, and the general state of solitude, and worry that I've ruined a rare night all to herself.

"Um, Carlisle finally got Edward to come home," I begin. She doesn't let me finish.

"Did all hell break loose?" I can only look heavenward at her phrasing. I am truly my mother's child.

"No, actually. It was touching. Everyone in tears. Mike, Rose, and I just thought they all needed some time together. They're going back later tonight, but I was just ready to come home," I explain while pouring her a cup of tea.

"Really? You didn't stay to catch up? I know how you've missed him."

"I did,really, but… I don't know. I saw him, let him know I'll be there if he needs me, and I'm fine with that. Weird, huh?"

"Not weird, Bella. Things change, people change. You've changed. Maybe he has, too."

"Yeah, maybe. So…" Please, God, change the subject. I'm ready to leave that behind for now.

"So. What are your plans for the rest of the night?"

"I was hoping for gift wrapping, Christmas movies, and cocoa by the tree, but it looks like you were hoping for a night alone."

"No, not really, but your father got a call and the boys have dates, so I had silence forced upon me. I like your plans much better. You go get the paper and things, I'll make cocoa. Sound good?"

"You sure?"

"Of course, Isabella. Double feature?"

"Yes!"

"Same movies?"

"Absolutely. Not _everything _has to change, Mom."

By the time the boys get home, Dad is asleep in his chair, _A Nightmare Before Christmas_ has been off for ages, Bing Crosby is singing his heart out in _White Christmas_, and Fi is lying in front of the fireplace with her head on her paws watching Mom and I laugh silently with shoulders shaking at a haphazardly wrapped, suspiciously bowling-ball-shaped package. It is a Swan family tradition stolen straight from _A Christmas Story_. We wrap the same ball year after year, the only mystery being whose name will end up on the tag this time.

"If her dad sees that hickey, you're dead, Seth. Dead!" The noise that accompanies my brothers is constant and loud. They can never just be quiet when within a hundred feet of each other. Never. Dad is awake and shaking his head.

"Who's killing Seth?" he asks Jake, pretending with a devilish grin that he didn't hear every word.

"Jane's dad. Good thing it's cold; she's gonna need the turtle necks! OW!" Jake yells in real pain then takes off up the stairs after Seth, who has just realized he has made a big, huge mistake. One simply does not sock Jacob Black Swan in the arm and get away with it. Fi surrenders her cozy spot by the fire to chase after the rampaging boys upstairs.

Mom sits with her mouth open and eyes wide. Dad simply chuckles.

"What's wrong?" I can't remember anything out of the ordinary happening. Life at Chez Swan, you know?

"Your mother has had an epiphany," Dad says, still chuckling happily.

"What?"

"My baby. Giving hickeys. I can't handle this without liquor," she says, then heads into the kitchen at a rushed pace.

"Dad?" I'm confused.

"We've been very open with you and Jake, kind of lax in the rules department."

"Yeah… I'm not following. Why is Seth different?"

"He's the baby," he replies, as if that clears up anything.

"And?"

"And that's it. Your mother, for all her "your life, your choices" beliefs, was trying to hold onto to his childhood just a little longer. You all seem to have grown up so fast," he concludes wistfully.

"And his giving Jane a hickey kills that for her?" Still struggling to really get it.

"Yeah. This is how it started with both you and Jake. We'll have to be more lenient, more relaxed with the rules for him just like we did for the two of you."

"She's not his first kiss, Dad."

"I know. But don't tell your mother."

My mother walks back into the living room, hands my dad a glass, and flops back down in front of the Christmas tree with me.

"Spiked eggnog, Mom?"

"You're damn right. Let's finish these presents." There is no talk of hickeys or little brothers.

Forty-five minutes later, every gift in the house is wrapped and under the tree. Except for mine and Mom's. Those will be wrapped by Ali and Esme. Dad and the boys bribe them with promises of yard work every year. I have cleaned up the mess and sent my inebriated parents off to bed. Now for a chat with Tweedles Dum and Dummer. They must be curious about the much anticipated return of a friend.

"Hey! Get out here! Meet in Seth's room!" I yell while pounding on Jake's door. Not going back in there. I swear I hear something fucking hiss behind the door.

Knocking somewhat more politely on the littlest brother's door, I get quiet permission to enter.

"Brace yourself," I tell him. "Jake's coming." And the door bangs open. He throws his huge self onto Seth's bed and makes himself comfortable. It would be disconcerting if we didn't already know he was going to do it.

"What's up?" Seth asks, like he's all innocent.

"Edward came home."

"Yeah. how'd that go?' Jake asks.

"Better than I expected really. He seems good."

"I'm glad," Seth says, and then they ask no more. Much less interest than I anticipated. It's easy to forget that he was always more my friend than theirs. I shake my head and smile ruefully at the selfish girl I was, and hope to no longer be.

"So. Hickey. Story. Now."

"Are Mom and Dad pissed?" Seth asks instead.

"What? No. You missed Dad's t_hat's my boy _face. Mom thought about putting you back in diapers for a hot minute, then got drunk. They're fine."

He groans and Jake laughs out loud.

"Spill," I insist.

"Bellaaaa, ugh. No."

"Come on. Jake knows," I prod.

"Not really, Bells. He was freaked out about it, and let it slip. I have zero details," Jake tells me. Interesting. "How far'd ya get, Loverboy?"

"Jake, shut the hell up, or so help me-"

Uh oh. Seth's really mad. And blushing. And not making eye contact. Oh, shit. I get it. He's… he's… shy?

"Seth," I start.

"WHAT?"

Don't yell, Bella. Deep breath.

"Seth, do you feel a deep need for us to stop asking you about Jane?"

"What do you think?" he asks with arms raised at his sides.

"Do you feel the urge to keep things between the two of you private?"

"Yeah," he says, calmer.

"Huh," Jake mutters, rather a contemplative sound for him.

"One more question," I say. "Do you kind of hate it Jake and I talk about our sex lives?"

"I don't _hate_ it. I just don't need to hear so _much_ about it."

"You hate it," Jake insists.

"Yeah," Seth admits.

"Jake, " I say. "I can't believe it."

"What?" they both ask.

"We have the first creature of its kind right here."

"Bella, what the hell are you talking about?" Seth asks in the face of Jake's and my grins.

"We're looking at a reserved member of the Swan family!"

**A/N: Little contrast between families there for you.**

**I tried really hard to end the story with this chapter, but it just wouldn't work. One more chapter, one more day in the life of Jas and Babe and their crazy, mixed up family of friends. Then a damn epilogue. Then I'm done! **


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: Don't own Twilight, or Jasper, or Bella. I own this story. I own a huge sense of accomplishment. Happy New Year.**

For the first time in a very long time, I wake up content. Jas and I are on the same happy page, Edward is home and safe nearly two weeks earlier than we'd all originally expected, Ali feels complete again. My boys are playing the Campus Club tonight, and I'm excited for the group outing to come. It's been a while since we've all gone out together. Even more than that, I figure it's way past time for a Sketchy Pete fix. It's been ages since Thanksgiving; fine, it's only been a few weeks, but I miss him. Fiona is snuggled at my feet, having let me sleep in this morning. I hear sounds of movement coming from downstairs, so my family must be making breakfast. I look at the clock and see that it is 9:30. It's really early in the day to be this happy.

Entering the kitchen, I hear Jake kidding Seth about being the normal one. Dad calls him "Marilyn" but no one but Mom gets the joke right away. Then I remember _The Munsters, _and the sweet little blonde preppy niece in a family of the truly bizarre on that old show, and laugh my ass off, thereby giving away my position. Still need to work on my stealth skills. While I called Jas then went to bed after our talk, I left my brothers to hash out how high a level of shit Jake will be piling on Seth and his normalness, and just exactly how much Seth is willing to take before all hell breaks loose. I have a feeling it won't take much to tip the situation into insanity. Pretty sure my mother feels the same way, because she just cut her eyes at both Dad and Jake. Seth needs a break.

Changing the subject, Mom asks me brightly, "Well, Isabella, up so early?"

"Early? Fi let me sleep past the ass crack of dawn. I feel rested. How are you, Rummy Mummy?"

She grimaces. "We shall not speak of it." I can only laugh.

"Plans?" Dad asks us as I sit down at the table with my freshly poured cereal. I'm surprised there's any left. Mom made breakfast and the scrambled eggs just look … off. That color doesn't occur naturally. So it's a shocker that the boys left any Cinnamon Toast Crunch for me; that is, until I see an already empty box in the trash. She bought two boxes. My mother is a genius.

"Jared's house," Jake mumbles through cinnamon crumbs. Even he won't touch the eggs. "The guys are coming over for a Christmas thing. Then I'm taking Vic out to dinner."

Cinnamon Toast Crunch is sharp. Finding this out now as I choke on a piece. "You're doing what? Going on a date? Like a _date_ date? That's new."

"Shut up."

"Snappy comeback, Jake," I smirk.

"Bella, it's a normal thing to do. Stop teasing. Call him Marilyn," Seth laughs. "I'm sure he'll love it."

"All right. Enough," Charlie says quietly in his I-really-am-your-Dad voice. "Seth? Plans?"

"Swim team is meeting at the diner for lunch and presents and whatever. I need a ride."

"Jake will take you," Dad replies with no room for argument. Jake's groan of annoyance walks a thin line, I think. "Bella?"

"Ali's then the club with everybody. The guys are playing tonight." This is starting to sound eerily familiar.

"Lauren's mother said something about that yesterday when I ran into her in the bookstore. She's so happy you girls are close again." Ok. _That_'s new.

"What?" Years of AP English at work in that response.

"You and Ali and Lauren and Jess."

"Oh, um, yeah. Right. Anyway, probably won't be home until tomorrow."

After a very deep sigh, Dad says, "Just make sure that you are. Bring Jas, but I want you home for Christmas Eve."

"Promise."

"Good. Ok, people. Go forth and conquer."

Shit is strange at Ali's. For anyone who doesn't understand what "normal" means to us, the afternoon at the Cullen house would certainly appear to be… normal. But it's not. Closer than it has been in months, true, but not quite _our_ normal.

Ali and Mike are still so sweet that it's gross, but they aren't draped across each other like they usually are. Ever since Alice's matter-of-fact announcement that a wedding is inevitable, Doctor Hotness - um, I mean, _Carlisle_ - has developed a super spidey sense when it comes to his darling baby girl and her lecherous boyfriend. Poor Mikey.

Edward's out of his room, but he's quiet. He's only been home a day, so I'll consider it a victory anyway. He won't be going with us tonight. Too much temptation much too soon. Feels strange to leave him behind, but we are all so proud of him for making such a good choice.

Jess is here, and that in itself is pretty normal. The fact that she's here but not here for Edward is like Bizarro Forks. Just so weird. He apologized to her for everything he put her through. She apologized, too, and to his credit, he let her off the hook. She's here now to get ready with Ali and me.

Lauren is talking a mile a minute to Jess about God only knows what while Tyler talks football with Mike and what the fuck? Why exactly is Lauren here? She and Tyler are always part of nights out for our crowd, but they are never here first.

"Ali." I lean over the couch cushion between us to get her attention while everyone else is talking or watching _The Nightmare Before Christmas._ It's the only acceptable movie. No _Rudolph _for this crowd.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"Just why the hell is Lauren here?"

"She's here to get ready to go out." Ali keeps what would be an obviously appropriate eye roll to herself.

"Did we accidentally become friends with them again?" I ask, jerking my chin toward the giggling cheerleaders across the room.

Her eyes pop and her jaw drops and I can see that she really hasn't thought the results of her recent actions through. "Damn it," she breathes out. "How did that happen?"

"I blame you," I hiss as I push myself upright again. Mikey's shoulders are shaking, but he has the good sense to keep his laughter silent. I glance at Ed and see his face is lit up in delighted bemusement. He always did want Jess and me to get along.

The afternoon is just left of normal for our group in every way. There's no booze, no pot, no new thing we've just got to try. No one is sneaking off to another room for a quick blow job. No one is fighting over a guy or shooting optic daggers over any imagined slights or intentional snark attacks. It's calm. Edward's return has changed the dynamic. It's like all the things we did to make ourselves feel grown up have been tossed aside and we are truly, for real… grown up. Or at least we're getting there. I'm not sure I like it, to be honest. All that shit is _fun. _But I look over my friends lounging in this room and accept it, accept this new maturity, I guess, as a necessary thing. It's certainly good for Ed, and it's probably good for the rest of us, too.

Emmett comes in from wherever the hell he's been all day and rousts us all from our lazy comfort. He's eager to get to PA. That's where Rose is. She went home this morning to close up her apartment. She's coming home with him to stay for the rest of the break, but he's twitchy already. I get that. I think Jess does, too. She and Riley are all sweetly cute and kind of serious. It's weird.

Jess and I pile into the monster Jeep with Em, who may or may not be coming back tonight. She'll have Ri to drive her home, and I'm staying with Jas until tomorrow. But there's no way in hell Ali and Mike can stay all night, so they're riding in the Charger with Tyler and Lauren. And that's when I realize that Ed is not the only member of this crowd not going with us. How could none of us have noticed that Angie and Ben are nowhere to be found? I think the worst part is that we don't really miss them. See, that's the part about this growing up business that sucks; we're growing apart, too.

Something else is missing, too. No lists. Not one page of personalized stationery, not one piece of notebook paper, not one scrap of torn envelope or a single sticky note. The urge to visibly organize my thoughts has lessened lately, it seems. At the height of the Ed/Jas debacle, I was listing everything: homework and project assignments, appointments, things I wanted to talk to Ali about, the order in which I planned on wearing my clothes during the course of a week, recipe ideas. Since things have calmed down, I don't feel the familiar buzz in my head quite as often. It's not that I think getting laid on a regular basis again has suddenly cured me. I just think that with a calmer life, I have a calmer mind. I don't know. Maybe I've just learned how to handle my shit better.

We pull up in front of the club and see Riley waiting out front. His face just shines when he watches her get out of the Jeep. Shines. I'm so happy for both of them. Yep, I'm happy for Jessica Hated-Her-For-Years Stanley. I'll be damned. He kisses her on the cheek and takes her hand, then leads her into the club. I sigh before I realize I'm making a sound.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here so early, Bells. Jas won't be here for a while. You're going to be bored."

"No I'm not, Em. Get in there and find Rose. I'm right behind you." I sit in the Jeep for a minute, get my bearings, pull myself together, wrap my head around all the changes that lead to me being here tonight. Maybe it's the holidays, the new year being so close. Maybe it's the fact that the senior class of Forks High will be taking cap and gown photos upon our return to school in January. Maybe it was leaving Eddie behind. I don't know, but it feels important, this night, like we're - like _I'm_ - moving on. Not like I'm getting rid of anything, really, just adding to what's already there. Whatever. I'm not usually so sober when I start thinking in grand scheme terms.

I'm torn from my deep thoughts by a small but growing commotion on the corner. A crowd is gathering and a voice is getting louder. A shrill, pissed, bitchy voice. A voice that can only belong to someone I hate with passion. Oh, this should be good.

"What are you trying to say?" Leah shrieked.

"I'm not _trying_ to say anything, bitch! I am flat out telling you I know you just fucked that guy!" Ohhhh, he called her a bitch already. Paul is really mad.

"And I am flat out telling you that's bullshit! I just went back there with him to score, not to screw!" She just screamed that in front of witnesses. I am in love with this moment. Wait, who'd she screw?

"Dude, for real, man, nothing like that happened." And my night just got awesome. It's Smarmy Blond Fucker. He's gonna get his ass kicked, and I'm the only one out here to see it.

"Bella! There you are! It's so cold out here! Are you going to come- Is that James?" Ali. It's like she felt my mind thinking I needed someone here. Amazing.

"That is James."

"And Leah? And fucking PAUL?"

"Yep."

"OH, this is just awesome," she squeals quietly.

"No doubt, Little Buddy. Paul's already called her a bitch."

"You stay out of this, asshole. I'll deal with you later," Paul informs James with a stare and a pointed finger as they continue the fracas, completely oblivious to their growing audience. James backs away and lets Leah take the heat.

"Let's go, Leah. Now."

"No. Fuck you, Paul."

"Fuck me? Fuck you, whore!"

"She is a whore," Ali grumbles.

"No, Ali. Whores get paid. She's just a slut," I sneer. And I feel immediately shitty. That was wrong, what I just said. Yeah, she slept with him when he was still my boyfriend, but he was there, too. It was a long time ago. She was an easy lay. So what? "Shit."

"What?" Ali asks.

"I suddenly feel like the pot."

"She is so totally the kettle, right?"

"Yes. Damn it. I want to be mean, but it just isn't fun anymore."

The scene in front of us grabs our attention again as Paul raises his fist.

"No fucking way I'm going to stand here and watch THAT!" I say, but I'm already moving toward the fighting couple. He is not going to hit her while I watch. Ali is running beside me, not about to let me face anything alone. We are both stopped in our tracks by the sound of sirens. Thank God.

They're all three taken away. Leah and Paul for disturbing the peace and public drunkenness. And James because Paul wasn't about to go down alone. He dropped the dime on the smarmy fucker's dime bags.

And all this before I even get inside.

Before I can finish telling Mike and the others what just happened - Alice helped tell the story, a lot - Em and Rose come over to ask about the sirens. Emmett makes sure to tell us how stupid we were for charging toward Paul. Then Pete shows up, and he has to be told. And then Jas and the boys get there. They super love the part where James gets pinched. By time we finish the fourth retelling, Jas has time for a quick kiss, and then the band takes the stage.

He sings for me. That's what it feels like. In the midst of the sweaty, swaying, singing crowd, surrounded by girls who want my man and guys who want my ass, it's just the two of us in my mind. He's singing for me. Damien Rice. Ray LaMontagne. He throws in Green Day with a devilish grin. He plays his guitar, he slides with his Bic, he shakes his ass and works the crowd. But he's singing for me.

"Not too long ago we sang a new song for y'all. It was not a happy one. Tonight, we got another one. I like this one better. It's a little twangy, but, hell, I'm from Texas." This is the last song of the longer than usual set, the boys are all tired and little loopy. I have no idea what he's about to sing.

_There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light_

_In the fine print they tell me what's wrong and what's right_

_And it comes in black and it comes in white_

_And I'm frightened by those that don't see it_

_When nothing is owed or deserved or expected_

_And your life doesn't change by the man that's elected_

_If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected_

_Decide what to be and go be it_

_There was a dream and one day I could see it_

_Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it_

_And there was a kid with a head full of doubt_

_So I'll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out_

I told him the next one would be dirty, but this is so much better.

Sitting around after the show while sober is new for my friends and me. The band, now _they're_ fucked up, but we are completely straight. At the moment, I am supremely glad for that because from my perch on Jasper's lap, I see a miracle. Sketch is silent. Awestruck, dumb, silent.

"Hi. I'm Charlotte. You're Peter, right? Mind if I sit down?"

"I'm Peter." Oh, Sketch.

She laughs, full bodied and throaty, and sits her big-boobed self down. "Yeah. I said that."

"I like her," I tell Jas.

The boys all start yelling stupid shit.

"What's your name, Pete?" asks Larry.

"Can I sit down, too?" teases Brian.

"Shut it," snaps Jas. And they do.

"Jasper, we're heading out. See you soon," Rose tells him, still giggling at Pete as she tells us good night.

"Later, Jas," Em says with a bro hug after he tells me goodbye.

"Later," Jas replies then squints his eyes at me. "Did he call me Jas? Since when does he call me Jas?"

"You're Jas now. Get over it," I tell him with a smile.

"But I said-"

"Doesn't matter, man," Mike informs him as he puts on his coat, cutting off a fruitless argument. "Alice always win."

"Always," I confirm.

"You HAD to know I WOULD. Silly Jas." And with that Ali gives him a pat on the cheek. She's not going to flaunt her victory. "Bye, Bella.

"Bye, Ali." I get up off of my man's lap to say goodbye to the best friend I will ever have in this life or any other. We give each other a wink and decide that, fuck it, it's Christmas. We finally bust out that thing we did at Eric's house that Fourth of July. We pull apart. She licks her lips, and I lick mine.

"Merry Christmas, boys!" we say together. Smiling. The catcalls are deafening.

Jas can't wait to get me to his place, and I am greatly rewarded and thanked profusely for the amazing gift of girl-on-girl action that he was given. Poor cowboy's exhausted now, and has fallen asleep. I laugh when I get up to get a drink of water, and wonder how Mike and Ali made it home. On cue, I receive a text heralded by the siren call of Katy Perry.

_**Home safe. Took us longer than expected. Wonder why? LOL! Look in your bag. I left you something. Love ya! -Ali Cullen**_

Tiptoeing back into the bedroom, I slip on a garage t-shirt and snag my bag. Sitting on the couch in the living room, framed in the soft glow of the tiny tabletop tree Jas has set up by the window, I find Ali's present tied in a red ribbon. More of a message than a gift. The lists.

God, I wrote them so long ago, it seems, though it's only been a few months. They were written by someone else; a girl who doesn't exist anymore. At least, I hope she doesn't. The Good Man was never Edward. It was always Riley, even when I didn't know that. I couldn't have written a more accurate description if I'd been sitting next to him. He is all the things on this piece of crumpled paper and more. A sweet, solid Boy Scout, and I could never have been happy with him.

And The Bad Boy. Well, that never described Ed, either. Nothing on that list rings true for him. My inner Jiminy knew even then that he was not for me. No matter how hard I tried to make him be, he was never the right guy, good or bad.

Jas, though. Jas is mine. Jas is right. He takes the important parts from both lists and tumbles them into one rough, badass, sweet, honest, hot as fuck man. He's everything I knew I wanted and so much more. He's what I needed to help me become who I'm supposed to be. I know I _can_ live without him. I've done it. I wasn't happy, but I was getting there. But I know I don't _want_ to live without him, and I'm willing to do what it takes to keep him.

One last look at the lists that started all of this, all of the happiness and anger, all of the learning and growing, and then I toss them. I ball them up and throw them in the garbage. I don't need them anymore. I never did. I know I would have found him anyway.

**A/N: The end.**

**The song is "Head Full Of Doubt / Road Full Of Promise" by The Avett Brothers.**

**There are so many thank yous. For the patience, for the reviews, for the follows, for the favorites, for the contest votes, for the recs. Thank you for encouraging me to continue when I didn't think I could. Thank you for holding me responsible. Thank you for reading.**


	44. Epilogue

**A/N: Say goodbye to Jas and Babe...**

"Are you ready yet, Babe? They'll be here any second. Shit, it's just your mom and dad. You don't have to dress up!"

He's impatient only because he's nervous. It isn't every day that your new in-laws fly across a the entire country to see the life you're providing for their baby girl. Or something. Whatever. We've never been that family, but I'm pretty certain that's where Jas's head is. He is a good Southern boy at heart. But so much has changed in the last five years.

I left Forks after senior year to attend NYU. My brothers finally figured out why I wasn't planning on leaving Washington and threw the mother of all shit fits. My mother, Ali, and Jasper all supported them. My dad was curiously silent. So I did it. I moved to New York.

Jas didn't immediately follow me. We decided I might need some time to find my place here. Sounds grown up and resonable, right. Psh. I cried for two weeks before I left, and it sparked another doozy of a fight. At least this time we knew why we were pissed at each other. We tried the long distance thing and realized very quickly that it wouldn't work. We broke up for most of my freshman year.

And then I came home for the summer.

He knew I was home right away. I never lost touch with Sketch or the guys. Jas and Em stayed close. We met up at one of Southern Comfort's last gigs and knew we missed each other. This time, though, it had to be all or nothing. We decided on all, and he moved to New York with me that August. We've been together ever since.

Ali and Mike went to Seattle for school. His parents needed him to go to state school, and she wasn't leaving him. The unholy wrath of Carlisle Cullen was a sight to behold. Ali refused to give in. Hot Doc made them promise not to get married or have a kid until Alice got her degree, and then he sent her off to school. Jas and I are flying back with Mom and Dad when their visit is over for the wedding. My maid of honor gown is divine.

Emmett had the kid. Well, Rose did. It's been tough going for them with Em in med school, but Rose is making it work. And little Maggie is amazing. Just amazing. She's smart and beautiful, the best of her parents. They think they might get married when Emmett leaves school for good.

Edward stayed lost for a while. He turned so far inward that it took some time for him to escape his own guilt. I tried so hard the rest of that year to get inside that head. But he was locked up tight. He did emerge, though, and he's at school in Port Angeles. He doesn't know yet what he wants to do when he grows up, but I hope he finds whatever he's looking for. I miss him, but I don't really know him anymore. I sometimes wonder if I ever did.

Jake was recruited to Clemson. My little brother is busting heads on the gridiron on television every Saturday, breaking hearts every other day of the week. He always knew he could do this. The NFL is a huge probability. He'll be one of the greats.

Seth is here with us. He loves NYU. I have no idea what he'll finally settle on for his major, but he better choose something he loves. I'm just so grateful to have him close.

Lauren is here in the city, too. Fucking modeling. She not a huge name, but she gets steady work. Who knew? We're friends, damn it, and hang out about once a week.

Riley and Jess lasted a good little while, but it fizzled as those things do. Riley faded away for the most part. We still keep in contact on Facebook, but that's about it. Jess stayed in Forks and has no intention of ever leaving. She and Eric are making some noise together.

Jas found work at a bike shop in Brooklyn. He loved it so much he called Pete out here. Damn if he didn't buy the place, our Peter. It's called Sketch's Bike Shop. I fucking love it. So does Charlotte. She keeps the books, keeps the guys straight. She 's our very own Gemma from _Sons of Anarchy_ but without the gun and two packs a day.

Jasper is co-owner these days. He worked hard to buy his half. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so proud as he was the day he signed the papers. Well, maybe I was more proud. So proud of him. He misses the guys, misses the band, misses the music. He once told me that being a rock star was a fantasy and not his reality. He was mostly right, but he hasn't abandoned it completely. He and Sketchy Pete still find open mics here and there. He's still so good. He sings for me all the time. He sang to me at our wedding.

And me. I studied Art History and Literature. I teach neither. Jas was right again, and I was able to put those degrees to good use. I'm an assistant to the curator of The Metropolitan Museum of Art. A very low rung assistant. But my foot is in the door, and I don't ever plan on leaving there. EVER. We live in Brooklyn and I commute. We were able to get a bigger place here than in Manhattan, and I don't mind the train ride. It gives me those moments to myself to collect my thoughts and order my day. The only lists I make these days are work related or of the grocery variety.

**'****They're here, Babe," Jas says when we hear the doorbell. I open up to let them in, and share my grown up world with them.**


End file.
